


like a lady ( reupload )

by awraithofwhite



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, Complicated Relationships, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Good Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper, Good Sibling Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Inspired by Stranger Things (TV 2016), Mild Language, Neil Hargrove is His Own Warning, Protective Billy Hargrove, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Stranger Things 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 104,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22443088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awraithofwhite/pseuds/awraithofwhite
Summary: " now here you go again . . you say you want your freedom . . well, who am i to keep you down "
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Original Female Character(s), Steve Harrington & Original Female Character(s), Steve Harrington/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 67





	1. Hargrove

**Author's Note:**

> in short: i deleted this story by accident, forgot to repost, and wrote two new chapters before reposting... but its all good now. we're back, we're cool.

"Max! Hurry up or you're skating to school!"

Billy barging into and out of rooms was a common occurrence that did not go unheard of. He stomped into her room, stomped to his car, stomped out of their house. She was used to it. She should have been used to it then.

But when her brother yelled out from the porch, she had been reaching for the doorknob. And he nearly slammed into her, striding by as she nearly tripped over the rug underneath their feet.

"Jesus, Billy! Have you ever heard of watching where you're going?"

He ignored her. "The little shit is gonna make us late."

"Late for what? You've never wanted to get to school on time in your life."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

Without a word in reply, Billy walked back onto the porch and down the steps, leaving her to roll her eyes as he had done when she asked her question. She followed him outside.

An exaggerated sigh left his mouth and finally, he said, "The point _is_ , Rowen, I wanna get out of here as soon as possible."

"You don't say," said she. Her sarcasm only made him more annoyed than he already was.

"Max! C'mon!"

Rowen glanced back into the empty living room of their house, hearing a pair of tiny feet shuffle and tap. Smoothing out her ponytail, she turned her gaze back to her brother. "Sarcasm aside, I get it. This place is a growing nightmare."

"You barely leave the house."

"Doesn't mean I don't get it, because I do."

Billy was unconvinced. "Oh you do, do you?"

" _No_ , I don't. I'm just trying to make conversation," she sassed.

"What are you? Ms. Smart-Ass this morning?"

She scowled, unamused. His silent glare only pushed at her nerves, making her grumble. Brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face, she said, "Actually I need to be Ms. 'Ride with you guys and borrow your car because I have a job interview at nine-thirty'."

He didn't even try to hide the eye roll he gave her.

Rowen smirked. "What? Afraid you'll lose cool points when people see your big sister take your car?"

"What are you guys talking about?" A smaller, slightly bored voice made itself known. Max appeared to her right with that same beaten up skateboard in hand and a small book bag slung over her shoulder.

"About damn time," Billy muttered, ignoring her question as he slid into the driver's seat.

"C'mon," Rowen lightly shoved at the redhead's shoulder. "If we keep him waiting any longer his head might explode."

"We? Why are you coming?"

"I have an interview later. Since I'm not going to college I gotta get a job. You know? Adult stuff."

Max smiled, giving her stepsister's outfit a quick overlook. "I don't know how you're gonna get hired dressed like that."

"Dressed like someone who has style?"

"Dressed like a college kid."

"Technically I am one," she retored.

"Yeah, but don't grown-ups usually dress up in those matching suits or long grey skirts and stuff?"

"You mean the dull people? Hell no- I am not dressing like that." Rowen grimaced, letting her climb into the backseat before taking the passenger seat, pulling the door shut. "I'd rather choke than look like one of them."

"Jesus Ro, it's not a disease," said Billy.

He whipped the car out of their driveway, taking off way too fast for the size of their neighborhood's streets. It wasn't like he cared, though. Nothing kept him from an opportunity to show off, especially when it came to his car.

"Oh, but it is," she objected, reaching into the glove box in front of her for a cassette tape.

Rowen wasn't surprised to see most of the tapes stuffed in his car were ones she listened to. _Probably_ _from the box in my closet, too_. She and Billy always had a similar taste in music, but she never knew him to swipe some of his for hers.

She caught him putting a handful of them in his car earlier that morning though, and as she continued to flip through them... she began to realize why. _Scorpions_ , _Foreigner_ , _Ted Nugent_ ; songs of theirs that were all of loud volumes. And he was already stuffing one into the radio. She figured that would be the case today. It was his first day of school after all. His grand introduction to Hawkins, Indiana.

Besides, Billy's ego was three times larger than what was considered normal, and with the fact that this place was officially their new home... how could he resist making a lasting impression? As far they were aware, they were stuck in Hawkins... As if their dad left the impression that they would be living there indefinitely wasn't enough of a clue; unless they came across yet another massive screw up, of course.

Getting away from all the 'screw ups', was the reason for their being there, to begin with. "A fresh start", as Susan called it.

But there was nothing 'fresh' about it... at least to the three people currently in the car. They had no reason to leave California, no embarrassment that made them want to leave home. But their reasons were no match for their dads. Contrary to Rowen's glossy eyes, when he announced they would be moving across the country, Billy made it clear that he didn't want to leave in a very loud, very angry tone. But it did nothing to change Neil's Hargrove's mind. He wasn't one to let people tell him what he could and couldn't do... especially his kids.

Before that moment they figured they couldn't hate him any more than they already did. Now, though? Rowen discovered she could. Nothing in this dull, suburban town looked promising. It felt like a punishment.

Who was she kidding, it _was_ a punishment, and that was where the move stung the most... because California was full of promises. Full of opportunities, full of chances. She wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if he actually wanted her to feel stuck. Hawkins didn't even have a story column in their newspaper, nevermind a publisher hanging around, waiting to take a chance with her work.

Saying Rowen was a writer was an understatement. Hell, she couldn't remember a time when a journal wasn't practically attached to her hand, couldn't remember a time when she wasn't scribbling through pages.

She could remember a time when it mattered to her more than anything, though. Those times when she would do nothing but talk about it, going over to the Hammonds three doors down or her friend Roni's house one ten-minute bike ride away... She could have stayed with either one of them had she asked, truthfully. She could have stayed until she found an apartment somewhere close, she knew it... And she was very close to doing so when she was putting her things in boxes.

Rowen could've stayed in California, stayed home where she wanted to be.

Sure, she wasn't eighteen at that time. Her birthday was only six days ago and by the time that rolled around, everything was already unpacked and stored in their little Hawkins house. She had still been seventeen when in California, still too young to legally 'leave the nest'... She felt tempted to do it anyway... but never tempted enough to actually follow through. Rowen had two other, bigger reasons that kept her from sneaking away with one of those two friends and left her to squeeze the life out of them the day the Hargrove's drove away from the sand and sunny beaches.

Those two reasons sat with her now, as they drove down gray asphalt, scrunched their noses at the smell of cow shit and prepared to make what they knew was bound to be a big entrance.

ii:

"You think I should start from scratch?"

"No! I... No. I mean.." Nancy hesitated to finish her sentence. She didn't know what to tell him. "When's the deadline?"

"It's tomorrow for early application. Can you come help me tonight?"

She shook her head. "No, we have our dinner tonight, remember?"

Steve felt ready to bang his forehead against the steering wheel. "Oh my god," he muttered, sticking his tongue out in disgust. That pointless dinner kept escaping his mind over and over and now it only made him more frustrated.

"Look you don't have to go just.. just work-"

He sighed. "No." The paper was yanked from Nancy's hand and crumpled up between his fingers. "What's the point."

"Hey, calm down."

"I _am_ calm. I'm just being honest," he said. "I mean I'm just gonna end up working for my dad anyway."

"That's not true."

"I don't know Nance, is that such a bad thing?" Steve turned his gaze over to her, genuinely wanting to know the answer. _Was_ settling for something simple and easy so bad? It sounded better than working his ass off to get into a college that he wasn't so sure about. "It has insurance and benefits and all that adult stuff... and if I took it I could be around for your senior year. Just look after you for a little bit. Make sure you don't forget this pretty face and stuff.."

By the end of his rambling, he had her grinning.

"Nance, I'm serious." And he was.

Steve leaned in to kiss her, lightly as they always did when they were at school, or anywhere where there were other people. If it was just him talking, he'd say he didn't care who looked when he wanted to kiss his girlfriend, but Nancy thought otherwise. Therefore the PDA was kept to pecks on the lips and anything that wouldn't lead to full-on making out. Right now was one of the times he questioned that (as if he didn't question it all the time). He could've stared at her all day if he could.

And he meant it literally, like full-fledged staring. It was something he actually considered doing.. but when a sudden noise dragged his attention away, they found themselves stepping out of his car. Someone was revving their car engine as openly and loudly as they felt like.

A deep blue Camaro quickly swung into the parking lot, shamelessly taking up two spots without even trying to stay in the lines. Music blasted without a care, intentional most likely. If the fact that the key was never taken out of the ignition once they stopped wasn't a clue already, the swing of the car doors was.

While he never had a car _that_ nice, Steve knew what showing off looked like. And if the guy that stepped out of the vehicle was doing what he thought he was doing, he wasn't trying to hide it. He knew he'd definitely never seen Mr. Camaro before. The blonde mullet, the all-denim look.. yeah. Definitely not from Hawkins. Everyone in Hawkins looked relatively the same and this guy stood out like a sore thumb.

 _A_ _curly-haired thumb._

He didn't need the shiny little license plate that dubbed him as a Californian for Steve to figure that he was new.

Eventually, a girl followed suit and stepped out of the passenger seat... _Wait no, two. There're two girls,_ he thought. Another, younger girl with bright red hair climbed out from the back, plopping a skateboard onto the ground before riding away from them, towards the middle school.

"See ya, Speedster!" The older girl called out to the redhead before she could skate too far, which made his attention go back to the car. The girl that said goodbye- _to her little sister_ , he assumed -had the same hair color the guy; curly like his, too.

Steve squinted as the sun peaked out from the clouds, having to put a hand above his eyes so he could see. She looked like she could be his age.. but she didn't have anything with her that told him she was a new student. In fact, after she turned her gaze away from the skater kid, she immediately walked around the car to the driver's seat where her brother had been.

She glanced his way.

 _Shit look away don't look like a creep,_ he thought. He was mentally scrambling to find something else to stare at. _Nancy. Look at Nancy, dipshit. Look at.. the back of her head, wow, okay._ Nancy was also staring at the new arrivals.

By the time Steve's gaze fell back on the newbies, the girl was gone, sitting in the driver's seat.. but before she could pull away, Mr. Camaro leaned his hand on the door and stated, " _Three o'clock_ , got it?"

" _I know._ I heard you the first time."

"Seriously, Rowen. Don't mess up my car, or I swear to God-"

"I said _I got it._ " Now she had her head peeking out of the window. "Turn it down a few notches, will you?" said she, a smile slowly creeping onto her face. She laughed. "I won't mess up your car, I promise."

It seemed to have convinced him, because once she disappeared back into the car Mr. Camaro began to walk away, throwing a cigarette to the ground. Steve had no doubt in his mind that they were siblings after watching that exchange. The fact that they looked alike was already a giveaway but their conversation confirmed it for him. If he was wrong, _then may I be flattened by that bright blue Camaro_.

Once the car pulled out of the parking lot, Nancy huffed, looking over to him with a smirk. "That was interesting."

He nodded as the car door shut on her side, mumbling, "Yeah... very."

iii:

_Ok, breathe. In and out._ _C'mon,_ _Rowen_.

She felt her hands begin to shake again as she reached for the front door of Hawkins Post, all but storming out of the very place that left her nerves wrecked. After hearing mixed opinions about the treatment of their employees, it became the last place she wanted to go. But that was exactly why Rowen made herself go. She probably should have expected her interview to go the way it did, given the way Mr. Holloway eyed her clothes, judging her as if she was in no position to sit across from him, asking to work for him.

Rowen made note of the comments and quiet chuckles she could hear from the smaller offices when she was inside, too.

Had none of that happened, she might have considered taking the job. But when she was laughed at as she made her way out, all determination to pine for the position went out the window. She would not take a position where she would be ridiculed and laughed at just to say she had a job. There was just no way. Not even the simmering anger of her dad could make her take it.

But that only made her hands shake more. It had been almost two weeks since they moved, and she'd done nothing but write in her journals and accompany Max to the arcade for the majority of that time.

Rowen made a mental note of the video store she spotted during the drive to Hawkins High School, trying to wrack her brain for the street name. She let out a long sigh. She did not want to waste gas just to find a store that may or may not be hiring. A hand ran down her face. Another reached into her pocket for the car keys. Rowen walked towards Billy's car, prepared to use up the last of his gas to drive around town till she found the store anyway.

That was when she saw it. There, three cars down, was an SUV. "Hawkins Police Department" displayed on the side. _Of course._

She wasn't sure how well this guy would know the town, but she was positive they knew it better than her. So, Rowen made her way over. When she came face to face with the passenger window she could see a man inside, clad in a sheriff uniform with a handheld radio clenched in his fist and a mustache that nearly covered his mouth.

He was distracted, clearly, considering her approach to his car window went unnoticed. Her light tap at the window didn't even catch his attention. Not until she tapped a second time. When her knuckles rapped the glass again, he jolted, making her jerk her hand back. He looked out the window with wide eyes and a hand-drawn down to his belt over something she could not see. And it was only when she waved awkwardly, that his hand lifted and stretched out towards the window, rolling it down.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, hi. Sorry if I was interrupting... whatever it was you were drawn into," said Rowen. "I just moved here and I'm kinda lost. Do you know where the video store is? I don't remember the name of it but I saw all these movie posters and stuff in the windows so I guess that's what it is."

He lifted his chin. "You mean Family Video? Yeah, it's right next to the arcade," he paused, shifting in his seat before pointing to her right, "You go down this street we're facing, right? Go all the way down until you reach the first light. Take a right. Then keep going straight until you see a big orange and green sign at the corner on the left."

Rowen followed the imaginary path he mapped out, looking down the street until she spotted a tiny red dot which she deemed as the first stoplight. "Okay. Thanks, uh?..."

"Hopper. Chief of police."

"Rowen Hargrove. Californian," she smiled. "Thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to my stranger things story!
> 
> thank you so much for reading! just a little disclaimer, i own nothing but rowen. please note that this story will include light mentions of verbal abuse and physical abuse. there will not be much, but it will be there so proceed with caution. canon-typical language warning as well.
> 
> im adding this note well after i have published this story, but i wanted to thank anyone who has been reading it or has just come across it. i did not plan very well at all when i was considering writing this, therefore it has been under many re-writes since i first uploaded it (the struggles of being indecisive).
> 
> so, to those who have been rereading my story (if there are any of you out there) i SINCERELY apologize for changing up multiple chapters so many times. none of the changes i've made affect the overall plot... i'm just... super duper picky... and was struggling to settle on what exactly i wanted those chapters to include and portray... but i got a grasp of it now... or at least a better grasp than i did.
> 
> i want to be able to narrate rowens story as best i can because this girl means so so much to me.
> 
> i would love to hear what y'all think of her and this story! and, again, thank you for reading!


	2. Ted Nugent Jr.

'Family Video' turned out to be nothing short of a feat.

The establishment was small, lined with movie posters that ripped at the edges and hung by tape pressed onto more tape. It was filled with fewer employees than she expected and that had done her wrong by giving her false hope. When she got there, she noticed that the arcade was actually attached, joined at the hip to the video store. Most of the employees who worked there worked at the arcade, too, shifting between uniforms of white and navy blue. Even the manager did.

The guy was a middle-aged man with dark hair and a scowl that made her want to slap it off of him and an irritation in his voice that made her skin crawl. And he crushed that minuscule amount of hope she had with the words "We're only looking for one more employee and you've got three other people to compete with already".

So yeah, he crushed her hope... but Rowen was desperate. Her potential boss already poked at her the wrong way and the pay was much lower than she expected it to be... but she was desperate. And hey, at least the employee that was there seemed nice.

Keith was sweet. He was tall and stocky and if he didn't permanently wear a nervous expression across his face, she probably would have been reminded of the guys that used to flock behind Billy in San Diego. But she wasn't. He stuttered and messed with his hair repeatedly as she came in and immediately shuffled through papers when his manager left, giving her a form and a pen and a smile so painfully nervous.

Like she said, sweet. Unlike most managers and employees she spoke to since moving to Hawkins. She had been so certain the rudeness of some people was the reason she wasn't being given any chance. But... when she had looked down at the application between her hands, she came to the sudden realization that that was not true.

Her problem was the lack of references of all things, the lack of bosses that would actually say something nice about her. She felt like banging her head against the steering wheel when she left that store and that too-sweet-for-his-own-good employee. Driving away with Billy's car and never returning, maybe.

Thankfully Rowen had a little more restraint than that.

Finally managing to find the familiar grounds of Hawkins High, she swung into the parking lot in a much less chaotic fashion than Billy.

She glanced down at her watch. 2:55; five minutes earlier than asked. She felt smug.

A combination of visiting 'Family Video' and dropping by their house to change clothes left her thinking the time would be much later, presenting her with a red-faced brother and rambled lecture that would involve "learn how to use a map" and "drive slow on your own time". But somehow she had managed to avoid all of it, and her mind reeled with all kinds of payback for the unimaginable amount of times he would complain about her driving.

Rowen killed the engine along with a much quieter tune from the radio, stepping out of the car with the keys in one hand and a black journal in the other. She trailed over to the trunk, sliding herself on top and sitting crisscrossed before opening the journal in her lap. She had read over the filled-in pages a million times, but she knew she would read them again a million more.

The bell rang, and a swarm of middle schoolers flooded out of the doors to her left. A few minutes later, another bell rang, and high school kids swarmed from her right. She looked up from her place on the car, but neither of her siblings came out with the masses. Billy told her to be there at three o'clock and yet there was still no sign of him. Max was the same.

The irony, she thought.

Everyone who knew Rowen knew she had a habit of being late. Directions were no better. Her entire family, especially Billy, scolded her for her terrible sense of them. But now she was on the other end. So, she went back to her journal and the scribblings inside, analyzing and correcting with the pencil she had previously tucked between the pages.

Despite the cool weather, Rowen exchanged her tucked in shirt and blazer for an untucked band tee and switched a nicer pair of jeans for ripped ones. Her ponytail from earlier was now down, letting hair fall in her face and fail to stay tucked behind her ear. She looked more prepared for summer rather than winter... which wasn't entirely wrong. California was much warmer than Hawkins, and she was still growing used to the change in climate.

"What adventure are you on now, Indiana Jones?"

Rowen heard a familiar voice approach, taking her mind off of the sentence she was about to finish. When she looked up she saw Max smirking at her, knowing the nickname would remind her of the times they'd watch the movies together. And it did. Rowen lost count of how many times she watched 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' with her stepsister. Neither of them were sure why they enjoyed it so much, aside from Harrison Ford, but it was something they bonded over. They even went to see the second one that past summer before moving away from California.

"I'm on my newest monster hunt. We're almost at the part where they come face to face with 'This One'." She wriggled her fingers in an attempt to be spooky, making Max giggle. "I thought I'd write something scary for Halloween."

Max suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree. "Can I read what you got?"

"Yeah, just let me finish this sentence." She scribbled until the unfinished thought on her paper was done. "Okay, here."

Rowen leaned one hand back onto the trunk of the car, letting the redhead stick her nose in the journal in a way that amused her. She watched as the high school crowd dispersed, saying goodbye to their friends, making their way to their cars, forming little packs around the trunks of some who wanted to hang out a little longer. Some sat in their cars, some drove off as soon as they could.

Some waved at her, too. A lot of them did... and she was confused. Max, while drawn into the story she had stuffed in her face, began to catch on, too. The sisters watched people wave and smile in their direction with different levels of confusion.

"Why are people waving at you?" Max asked, closing the journal.

"I don't know," Rowen drawled.

"Hey!"

A weirdly cheery voice startled her, coming from a girl striding over to them in a turtleneck and colorful bomber jacket. Her hair was bright red, perfectly curled, unlike the matted mess of waves that was Max's hair. A guy trailed behind her, too; hands stuffed in his pockets with a smirk across his face. The smirk was pointed at Rowen.

"You're Rowen, right?" she asked.

Rowen squinted at her from her place on the Camaro. "Yes?"

"I'm Carol," she introduced, smacking at her gum, then pointing behind her. "This is Tommy."

Tommy draped an arm around Carol's shoulders. "Hargrove's told us a lot about you."

That was when it clicked. Rowen raised her brow. "He has, has he?"

All they did was smirk.

"And what exactly were the things my brother told you about me?"

"Oh you know," Carol sighed. "College life. Being able to do whatever you want. Are the parties really as wild as they sound?"

Rowen had only ever been to one college party, and that had been before she graduated. But she would admit, sneaking off with one of her friends out of pure curiosity, albeit risky, was worth it. It _was_ wild.

"You could say that, yeah."

"You coming to the party tomorrow night?"

She threw Tommy a look. "What party?"

"Tina's," Carol told her, not bothering to explain who Tina was. "She's having a Halloween party at her place. No parents, no problems..." She smiled. "Just beer and costumes."

"Sounds fun," Rowen mused.

"So you in?"

Rowen turned her gaze down to the dirt ground under their feet. She pretended to think over her options, buying herself a few seconds. "I'll think about it," she finally said.

Her response was all but a yes to them, and that seemed to appease them enough. Both grinned widely, and Tommy ended their conversation with a, "We'll see you then, College Girl."

Billy showed up as they walked off. He barely even acknowledged them, but it was enough to leave the couple satisfied and run off to another group of people.

Rowen narrowed her gaze as he approached. "You've been here for a day and people not only know your name but my name, too? Are you going for a new record or something?"

Billy scoffed. "You know how many new people have shown up in this town? Zero. It's like the high schoolers in this place think I'm Ted Nugent or something."

She smirked. "Wasn't that the idea, though?"

He gave her an unamused glare, turning her smirk into a grin.

That grin, however, soon faltered when Rowen spotted something orange in his pocket. Rowen reached out and snatched it, leaving him in a failed attempt to grab it back as she walked around the vehicle. "Tina's Halloween Bash. Come and get _sheet faced,_ " she read aloud. Rowen opened the passenger door to let Max climb in. A hum of interest escaped her mouth and she glanced over the car where Billy stared at her in annoyance. She waved the piece of neon-colored paper in her hand. "Does Ted Nugent junior plan to go?"

"Just shut up and get in the car," he grumbled.

She did so, plopping into the passenger seat just before he cranked the engine. Rowen's previous question never left her eyes, which were currently boring into Billy and going to stay that way until she got an answer. He could tell what she was thinking without having to even look in her direction.

"I was planning on going, yeah," he finally said, pulling out of the parking lot. "And I was gonna tell you about it when we got home."

"But?"

"But I know how you are at parties."

She huffed. "What? Sane?"

"No. A buzzkill _,_ " Billy deadpanned.

"I am _not_ a buzzkill," Rowen argued.

He scoffed. "You are when you disappear into a corner after getting bored."

"Yeah," she said defensively. "Because people get too drunk too fast and pass out before anything fun can start."

"It's a high school party. What did you expect?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's a new town. I was hoping for something different from all the parties in California."

That got a chuckle out of him. "Something different _?_ You're not gonna get that just because we moved across the country, Ro. Parties in San Diego were ragers compared to what this one is gonna be."

Rowen stared at him for a moment, thoughts swirling. She eventually sat back in defeat, and with a sigh, letting her head fall back on the headrest.

"What? Do you not wanna come now?" Billy mocked.

She narrowed her eyes at the road in front of them, thinking over her choices. She shook her head. "No... No, I'll come," said she, a smirk twitching onto her face. "Like you said, it's a high school party. Which _also_ means free drinks."

"And you never say no to that, do you?"

"Nope."

_OCT. 31_

Halloween arrived before any of them could blink. Decorations were strung across halls, fanned out along doorsteps, placed in weird corners. All that was left was costumes, which they figured everyone would show up in. Weirdly though, when the party arrived at school they realized they were the only ones wearing theirs. Dustin swore the rest of the school gathered together to conspire against them. How else could _no one else_ be dressed in costumes? It was Halloween!

Unless the rest of the school somehow forgot...

With all that happened last year with Hawkins Lab, Demogorgons, El... that seemed more likely. But it wasn't the reason. No one else knew about it. Which was why Dustin was left questioning the lack of costumes the entire day, whether it be by complaining or tossing the thought back and forth in his head.

He had hoped he would get the chance to impress Max with his costume that morning, but when she also showed up in regular clothes, suddenly dressing up as Stanz didn't feel so cool. He told himself it probably wasn't the best idea right now. As Lucas said at their lockers, they looked like idiots. His classmates weren't afraid to tease them for it either... All-day in fact.

"I swear to God, I wish this proton pack was real. I'd be zapping so many assholes right now."

"Dustin it's not a big deal," Lucas tried. "Everyone's going home to put on their own costumes anyway."

"Doesn't mean I won't wanna scare the shit out of a couple of people when we're out trick-or-treating later."

Lucas did all he could not roll his eyes, wanting to tell his friend to shut up about their whole costume incident. But Dustin was already on to the next thing. Lucas followed his gaze. A Camaro was pulling into the high school parking lot.

"Jesus I would kill for a car like that," said Dustin. "Can you imagine if I had a license? That _,_ along with these pearls? No way would Max say no to me."

"Isn't that her brother's car?"

"What?"

"I'm pretty sure that's her brother's car," Lucas said. "I saw them show up in it this morning."

"Well if it's her brother's car then who's that?"

Dustin pointed towards it, and both their gazes landed on an older girl climbing out of the driver's seat.

Lucas shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Max has a sister too," he told him, taking notice of the ripped jeans and oversized t-shirt she had on. Max wore oversized sweatshirts. "They dress sorta similar and she's leaning on the same car. That's gotta be it."

Silence.

"Dustin?"

He didn't answer.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Will caught Lucas's attention, approaching them with Mike in tow.

"Dustin's making goo-goo eyes at Max's sister."

" _Dude!_ " Dustin shouted, now broken free of his daze.

"Max has a sister?" Mike asked.

"What? Where?" asked Will.

Lucas pointed. "There. Down in the high school parking lot."

"Are you kidding me? You're stalking my stepsister now?"

They jumped, turned around to see an annoyed Max.

Dustin immediately tried to salvage the situation. "No, no, no, we just- we uh," he stuttered. "We just saw her pull into the parking lot and well, she's sitting on the same car you come to school in so we were wondering who she is."

Max raised her brow. "As I said, she's my stepsister."

"We weren't stalking her. We were just curious," said Lucas.

But Max wasn't convinced. "Yeah, sure. Just don't let me catch you doing it again."

She let her skateboard plop onto the ground and skated down the hill. They watched her roll away, open-mouthed.

"You're still meeting us at Maple Street tonight, right?" Dustin called out. He felt a hand slap his arm. "Ow! What the hell?!"

Lucas glared at him. "See? This is exactly why we don't stare!"


	3. The Chain

"How'd the interview go yesterday, Ro?"

Dazed, she all but halted in her tracks as the words were muttered out. Her mind was in a rush, the smell of fuel filling her lungs and last lyrics from one of her brother's many prolonged jam sessions still ringing in her ears. It left her to wonder if she had imagined it, or if the TV sounded very similar to her dad.

But no voice made the hair on her neck stand up like his, even when it was being pleasant.

Did Neil Hargrove grow feelings or was she just hallucinating? _Hallucinating._ _Definitely, hallucinating._ But she was proved wrong, catching Max look back to her with her small, freckled face scrunched up in confusion.

Only a few seconds ago was Rowen under the assumption that her stepsister's story about four stalker boys dressed as the Ghostbusters was the weirdest thing she heard all day, but when she shared a bewildered look with Billy she began to think otherwise. Not only that, but the question did in fact came from their _dad's_ mouth. She wouldn't have been surprised if it was Susan who asked her, considering she always made an effort to care about her stepdaughter's life, but for those words to come from Neil Hargrove? Confusing. Unbelievable, even.

Rowen stared at the back of his recliner, mouth ajar, adjusting the bag that hung from her shoulder. "Uh... fine?" she told him, stammering, "Fine. Really fine, actually. _Great_."

She glanced over to Billy again, awaiting confusion and a weird sense of comradery, but he glared and crossed his arms as if he knew. _Liar_ was what he was saying. Rowen didn't object to that. She was a terrible liar when it came to their dad, even with her still-disclosed high school record.

"Good."

_Good? Did he just buy that?_

Her brow felt permanently knitted together, confused and drawing over her eyes. She stared at her dad as if he had grown two heads.

He was never- and she meant never -like this (an understatement, really. Neil Hargrove with caring feelings was less likely than most miracles). Most of the time he wasn't even home at this hour, just before the sun set and left the neighborhood to freeze in the darkness. His newfound curiosity stretched far enough to make even _Billy_ stop, lingering at the dining room threshold to hear the end of the conversation instead of retreating into his room as Max had done.

"That's good," Neil was slurring, passing by his children with lackadaisical steps. "You get your butt working so you can get outta here like you always wanted."

But then he plopped a glass on the kitchen counter, and Rowen spotted the label. She knew a beer bottle when she saw one.

Billy saw the glass bottle too, sidestepping out of the way before his shoulder collided with the shoulder of his father.

Rowen blamed the urge to reach her room and near shock for not realizing until then. For a moment she forgot their dad even drank. He was working late so often and had been absent morning after morning that she thought of it less and less, but now she could smell the bad taste the alcohol left in his mouth. The memories returned with it.

He wasn't even near her and yet she could tell he'd already downed a few. Halloween graces and an early end to his work day, she assumed, but the fact that he was openly drinking made her wonder, especially about what Susan would say. She might've already said something.

After Neil Hargrove began his new job, his wife assumed he stopped. She even made a comment about how he was always nicer on the weekends, thinking that his work was tiring him with the late hours during the week, therefore making him irritable and in need of rest. But unlike Rowen, she wasn't very observant. She didn't notice the occasional beer bottles that would show up in his car like Rowen did when she would borrow it on the weekends, nor had the chance to catch the smell of alcohol lingering in his breath. Billy had that chance many times.

It was why he walked away and Rowen followed behind.

"Remind me to _never_ slow down when he's home, just keep going."

Billy couldn't help but laugh under his breath. Sure, what he just saw happen was beyond strange (even after they saw the beer bottle), but it was refreshing to see his dad's attention on someone else for a change. His bedroom door opened. "You got something for tonight?"

"Do you actually care?"

He raised his brow as if the answer was obvious.

Rowen's eyes narrowed. " _Yes..._ " she looked at him questionably, placing a hand on her hip and the other on the doorknob.

He cringed, pulling out a cigarette from the pack in his jacket and asking, "It's not that same, tight witch costume you had from last year is it?"

"I did _not_ wear that willingly and you know it," she defended, remembering how two of her former friends forced her to wear it out in public. "I threw it in the garbage before we left California."

She could see the relief wash over his face. Billy pulled out the lighter from his back pocket, lighting the cigarette that hung from his mouth. "Thank God," he mumbled, pinching it between his fingers before exhaling a cloud of smoke in her direction.

"What? Am I supposed to be living up to some reputation you gave me within the span of two days?"

He scoffed. "It's not a reputation. People just know we're siblings and think that you're in college. Apparently that's cool around here."

Rowen 'ah-ed'. "You mean the shitheads?"

"Yes, the shitheads."

Rowen scanned over his face. "But you still wanna look _good_ in front of the shitheads, so you bragged to them about me, huh?"

His expression contorted into an annoyed one. "No, dip-shit. I'm not gonna prostitute my sister to a bunch of wannabes."

"Good, because all _I_ wanted to do was go to a Halloween party, not entertain your new friends."

"They're not my friends," he argued, shrugging off his jean jacket. "And I'm not asking you to do that. Just humor them a little."

"No way," she scoffed. "Humor them yourself."

"Listen," he snapped, throwing his jacket to the side. "I'm not saying you have to get high off your ass. These people are _mind-numbingly_ easy to please. Just make the guys think you're flirting or something and don't be a bitch."

Rowen stared at her brother open-mouthed. Then, "Wow."

"What?"

"I never thought I'd see the day when you'd beg me to do something."

"I'm not begging," he argued.

Rowen hummed, unconvinced.

_"RAGH!"_

A yelp left her mouth. There before her stood a short Michael Myers with a fake knife in hand, otherwise known as her stepsister.

"Jesus, Max! That wasn't funny!" And yet she couldn't help but laugh as she spoke. Both girls trailed back into their shared bedroom, ignoring the slam of Billy's door.

"C'mon, you thought it was." Max plopped on the end of her bed, tossing her mask onto the floor.

All that was received was an eye roll as the smirk on Rowen's face twisted into a curious stare. She spotted a familiar black notebook on Max's twin bed, also known as a bed that was barely used. Rowen failed to understand why it was still there when it barely fit in the room and Max slept in her's more.

Back in California, they had their own rooms, but when her dad would have his regularly occurring outbursts in front of Susan, the shouts would make Max creep into her room at night. She would hide under the blankets so the arguing sounded quieter and Rowen would hug her close. When they arrived in Hawkins, nothing changed. The shouts continued, Max still wandered over to her bed. Rowen still rubbed the thirteen-year-olds shoulders until she would fall asleep.

"Are you reading that same story from yesterday?"

"Yeah, it's cool," her stepsister said. "It reminds me of Halloween kinda but with a... I don't know, a supernatural twist." Max slid off of Rowen's bed to grab the journal. "Like the killer isn't human, it's definitely some weird creature... but I have no idea what it could be. You never actually say what it looks like."

"That's the idea," Rowen pointed. "Not knowing what's coming after you only makes it scarier."

Max sat in thought for a moment "Kinda like a shadow, right?" she wondered aloud.

"Exactly."

ii.

Billy leaned against his Camaro, keys dangling from one hand as he pinched a cigarette in the other. Rowen was taking uncharacteristically too long to get ready and it was beginning to aggravate him.

Normally he was the bathroom hog, throwing either her or Max out of the tiny space when his turn came to primp. He was definitely the most meticulous with his looks, taking an hour just to do his hair and then who knows how long for the rest; a particularly long process, but it had to be done, and for two reasons. One: it was a must, simple as that. He valued his time in front of the mirror. Two: high schoolers noticed _every_. _detail_. The high schoolers in Hawkins liked to gossip, too. The second something changed, it would be in people's mouths whether it was good or bad, relevant or irrelevant.

"Let me guess.." his sister's voice drawled.

He turned around.

Dramatically pointing a finger towards him, she guessed, "Sodapop Curtis?"

His eyes rolled into the back of his head. " _No_..."

The click of her heels filled his ears along with the click of their front door. "Which one of 'The Outsiders' boys are you supposed to be, then?"

"Do you actually care?" he repeated her words from earlier. Billy wasn't actually dressed up as anyone. All he did was look for the closest thing to a 'costume' that didn't make him look like an idiot which, in the end, was his leather jacket and nothing but. Sodapop Curtis was a pretty good idea, though; maybe the answer he'd give to anyone who'd ask, too. 

Rowen seemed to have a similar idea. With the all-black ensemble, he just assumed she put the outfit together solely to annoy him. Tight, tight, and more tight was what it was under a large black shawl and he had a feeling she chose the look out of spite. He wanted the fact that he had a sister "in college" to make him look good, not steal the attention away from him entirely... and in the worst way possible.

"If I'm an Outsider then what are you supposed to be?"

Rowen grinned. She stopped in her tracks, dramatically holding out one hand while the other gripped the tophat on her head. " _And if you don't love me now, y_ _ou will never love me again_..."

A scowl appeared across Billy's face as she broke into song.

" _I can still hear you saying, y_ _ou would never break the chain!_ "

Amidst her obnoxious singing, he was left to listen to the sound of the car door shutting on her side, sighing loudly and flinging his cigarette into the grass before climbing into the car himself. The engine roared, his own music blasted.

He didn't actually care when they got to Tina's house, he was just pissed that he had to wait on not only Max, but now Rowen too (even if it was just the one time). Their dad was already drunk enough to miss their exit (and thankfully their heads) and the redhead left some time ago to meet a few friends on Maple street, so curfew wasn't exactly on their agenda. But that didn't make him any less annoyed.

Rowen wasn't on the same timetable as he was, or as anyone was really. Sometimes he wondered if she could actually manage to be on time for once and _not_ when it was convenient for her. Yesterday was considered a miracle, wrapped in the form of his safely returned car.

Billy knew her habit wasn't always because of her terrible sense of direction. Rowen was lazy sometimes, and it made him wonder how in the hell she was going to keep a job. She just barely graduated high school without a terrible record. Sure, she may have attained a three-point-five GPA, but that didn't make her the best student. She skipped and got into shit the same as he did, but somehow she had a way of getting on her teachers' good sides with a few words and that little grin of hers. It used to irk him when she got away with things that he wouldn't. They had that same pearly-white smile. When she would use it, people called her charming, but when _he_ used it, people called him a flirt.

Sure, they weren't wrong; he was a flirt. But it was the principle of the thing.

Contrary to those thoughts, tonight he hoped would be one of those times when her smile would do the trick. As much as he hated this place, he had a rep to keep and bringing her to the party would only give him an advantage. He only hoped that she wouldn't creep into a corner and stay there with a beer bottle as she usually did, ruining his plan simply because she disliked the attention he reveled in.

He wasn't going to let it happen either way. She dragged him around all the livelong day, always getting her way without so much as a bat of her eyelashes. He gave in more times than none, too, whether to avoid more trouble with their dad or the threat of being dragged by his hair (which she would most definitely go through with).

But now? Now it was payback time; his turn to get _his_ way.

Hawkins High wanted to meet her, so meet her they would.

iii.

Tina wasn't exaggerating her invitation when she said ' _come and get sheet-faced_ '. By the time Steve and Nancy got there, it was a total madhouse. Music was blaring, toilet paper hung from the beams. The entire place smelled like booze combined with body odor and it wasn't even past nine. The people around them were tumbling, chugging, falling onto each other and tripping on the stairs. They were doing anything and everything that someone who was completely wasted would do... and it was hilarious. Steve had never seen so many of his friends drunk out of their minds when he wasn't.

He smirked at a few faces he recognized, Nancy laughed under her breath as one guy rushed past them, out the door to the front lawn. They could hear the sound of all that sat in his stomach toppling onto the grass. It made him chuckle, thinking he might actually enjoy one of these parties for once.

Or, that was until Mr. Camaro showed up with friends in tow. Hargrove was his name (something Steve learned the day before). He displayed the typical bad-boy persona with a shiny blue car and better-than-thou attitude to match. Fitting, considering the entrance he made. Steve didn't have the rug pulled out from under him by it per-say, but everyone was immediately (and he meant _immediately_ ) flocking to this guy because he was new, presumably cool, and had a charming smile to emphasize it all. It was different. It threw him off.

"We've got ourselves a new Keg-King, Harrington," Tommy announced, klapping the very person he spoke of on the back.

"Yeah! Eat it, Harrington!"

Steve whipped off his sunglasses, unphased by the snide comments. "Is that right?"

"Forty-two seconds," Billy told him. "Heard you barely made it to Thirty-two."

Steve clenched his jaw. "Yeah well, that was a while ago."

"You saying you want a rematch?" Hargrove challenged him, earning a few sneers from the guys around them.

"Maybe so," he muttered.

Now the guys were rilled up, whistling loudly at his response.

"Now, now, ladies..." Every gaze trailed to the sea of people, of which one girl emerged. "You're _all_ beautiful. There's no need to fight over it."

 _Shit._ The girl that Steve spotted driving away in Hargrove's car was now standing next to his ex-friend with a red cup in hand, all smiles, high heels, and black attire.

He was surprised Tommy never uttered a word. The jock would've punched anyone who'd insult him like that, left them bruised and knocked out, yet there he was grinning at her from ear to ear. The tight black ensemble to blame, Steve assumed. All of the guys were grinning, actually, as if they just received the best compliment they could ever get.

Aside from Hargrove. A subtle glare rested on his face, but it melted, and suddenly he was all smiles, too.

"Ya know what, my sister's right," he added smoothly, the original smirk twitching back onto his mouth. "Better to save you the embarrassment, Harrington."

_Sister? So he was right._

"Besides, someone's gotta keep an eye on Princess Wheeler, right?" Billy simply pointed his glare to the left and five gazes simultaneously glanced in the direction of the punch bowl. And as he implied, Nancy was there, downing shot after shot of the alcohol-riddled punch.

Steve cursed under his breath, bolting in her direction, squeezing past teenagers already too intoxicated to notice.

The sight made the guys bust out in a fit of laughter.

"Harrington the babysitter." Tommy chided.

Rowen watched his poor attempt to pry the red cup away, Nancy throwing her hands up in protest and stalking away with the same cup, now full again. So much for 'Harrington the Babysitter'.

Taking a sip from her own cup, she moved to squeeze through the sea of people, some dressed in tight outfits and others with too much makeup. But before she could take more than two steps she was pulled in the opposite direction, arm yanked and her 'ow' muted out by the music playing.

Billy caught her before she could disappear, asking, "The hell are you going?"

She forced a smile. "To make out with one of your new friends."

"You honestly expect me to believe that?"

Rowen yanked her arm from his grasp. " _No_ idiot," she hissed. "I'm going somewhere to get _away_ from them."

She turned away again, but Billy wasn't too far behind.

His eyes widened. "Oh hell no. No way, you're not doing this to me tonight."

Rowen spun around. "Doing _what_?" she snapped. "I told you I wasn't gonna humor these people, Billy."

"So what?" he snapped back. "You owe me."

Her arms crossed. "Oh I do, do I?"

"Yeah. You know? For all those times I ratted you out when you didn't go to class and dad got suspicious."

Rowen's glare faltered to the crowd around them. He wasn't lying. He ratted her out more times than she could count.

"You got your way plenty of times. Now it's my turn."

She scoffed. "You can't be serious."

"It doesn't matter if I am," he stated firmly, taking a step closer to her so he could speak lowly. "People already think it's some kind of honor that you even showed up. What do you think they're going to do if you're caught hiding in a corner, huh?"

Rowen had rarely thought of the way she acted at parties before. For the last three years, it was always the same people that hosted them. It was always one of the guys on Billy's basketball team, always someone from her class. They knew her, so it didn't matter if she hid away in a corner at some point. She always did after a while, and they were used to it.

But she was no longer with these people...

"They're gonna think I'm a liar. That's what..." Bily told her. "And they're gonna think you're a joke."

Rowen didn't know what to do then. She didn't know what to do because she knew he was right. It was more likely that she would be called a fake or a buzzkill rather than receive nods of understanding. If Tommy and Carol weren't a big enough hint into what the teenagers of Hawkins were all about, this party was. She could see it in their faces, in the way she was approached by five girls at a time when she walked through the door.

She didn't know what to do then. She just stood there, and Billy gave her a hard look. "Don't screw it up."

* * *

 **NOTE** : fun fact , rowen is an avid stevie nicks and fleetwood mac fan. also, this chapter is named after the song rowen was singing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact , rowen is an avid stevie nicks and fleetwood mac fan. also, this chapter is named after the song rowen was singing!


	4. Don't Be a Freak

Rowen learned very quickly that there were two types of rich kids in Hawkins.

To begin, there was Nancy Wheeler, or "Princess Wheeler" as she originally knew her. "Snobbish goody-goody" was another term used to describe her amidst the gossip, and Rowen couldn't deny the truth of it. Even at a Halloween party, Nancy had a very 'good girl' look, and people weren't afraid to talk about it after her unexpected entrance.

Nearly drowned out by the tune of Mötley Crüe, Tommy eagerly told Rowen everything she needed to know about Nancy, including her lack of party appearances.

The teen had a pristinely white house at the end of her neighborhood's culdesac with a yard twice the size and just as picture-perfect. Photos hung along the walls inside, displaying forced smiles that made it seem like she had the perfect, little family. Her mother stayed at home to take care of the kids and her dad worked the typical 9 to 5. Dinner was always at the table, and her curfew was always ten o'clock; aside from tonight. Nancy displayed a perfect suburban lifestyle and on top of that, had an attitude to match. According to the jock, she was priggish, ignorant, and the reason why he and Harrington ended their friendship.

Rowen opened a floodgate by asking Tommy about Nancy because he practically unloaded his opinions. He wasn't even close to being done, and she wasn't the only person he talked about. Steve Harrington was a frequent mention.

Rowen had half a mind to assume that his tongue was being loosened by the red cup in his hands, but it wasn't a surprise, considering she was sure everyone there had at least one drink. Even she was beginning to feel a little buzzed. But as willing as he was to tell her about Steve and Nancy, a couple of ex-girlfriends and many more people that did not fall in his friend group before the punch even made down his throat, she assumed he would have unloaded all of this while sober, too.

Keeping the words "don't screw it up" in mind, Rowen humored her brother and didn't disappear into a corner after becoming bored... even if the party lived up to their low expectations. She kept herself at the edge of the dancing crowd, causing his new following to stand with her, making her job easy. A few sweet words and smiles and she left them grinning, girlfriends scowling. A one Carol Perkins included.

 _Mind-numbingly easy to please, indeed_. Surprised by the truth of Billy's words, Rowen was rather pleased herself. She did what, in her mind, he begged for with very little effort, and somehow he didn't even notice that she spend very little time doing it. She didn't screw up, therefore, she dubbed herself free.

Finally managing to wander away, she left a completely clueless and rather wasted jock in the middle of the party crowd. She found the kitchen, swerving through both rock-band members and characters from _Grease_ and _Terminator_ , propping herself up onto the counter because seats were no longer an option.

Rowen breathed out a sigh, finally catching some sort of peace. But that peace only lasted for a minute... as she was soon approached by the second type of rich kid.

Tina was probably the furthest from a Nancy Wheeler type. She shared a similar, pristine house and had well-off parents that would line their walls with pictures, but she enjoyed socializing and enjoyed throwing parties that would mask that image that Nancy fell into. People liked her... but that didn't mean Rowen did. Sure, Tina wasn't snobbish, but she was a typical popular kid, similar to ones Rowen was forced to hang out with when she was a senior and her brother was a junior.

She had her fill with girls like that and would, admittedly, rather be around someone like Nancy if she had to choose between the two.

"So you're like... _not_ in college?" Tina slurred.

Rowen hadn't given her that long of an answer to her original question. Tina asked where she was going to school, Rowen said she wasn't in school... but it took Tina three times to register it. Rowen could tell she was falling down the same intoxicated path that many of her guests had already tumbled into.

But she decided to answer anyway. "Nope."

"But why?" The teen tilted her head. "You'll miss out on all the college parties!"

Rowen couldn't help but smile at her exaggerated hand movements.

"Actually I've already been to one."

"Really?" Tina's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "What's it like?"

"Not much different from this." Rowen mused. It wasn't entirely false. "You're practically throwing one right now."

Tina giggled. "Wicked." A slow grin crept onto her face before the can of beer was lifted to her mouth once again.

Rowen glanced around the kitchen before hopping off the counter. "I need some air. I'm gonna go outside, okay?"

"M'kay," Tina slurred. "Have fun!"

To be completely honest, Rowen was considering going outside... maybe walking straight to her brother's car and leaving him there. She was tired of being squished between sweaty bodies and horrible smelling breath and convincing Billy to leave with her wasn't likely, even if it was he himself that said the party wasn't going to be anything close to good. Besides, he could use the exercise considering he loved to work out so much. But she didn't have the keys. Billy did.

 _Speak of the devil_.

Rowen spotted him across the swarm of dancing teenagers, leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He looked just as tired of the night as she did; something that was _very_ out of character for him. But it made her hopeful. If she guessed right, he was bored, so maybe there was a chance she could get out of there early.

Rowen glared daggers at him until he turned his gaze her way. When he did, she raised her brow, extending her arms out towards the scene around them. She proceeded to make motions with her hands, placing them around her throat while sticking her tongue out to make it look as if she was gagging.

Because the party was, in fact, making her gag. She had her fill with dancing when people were more sober than drunk, but now it was just a mass of bodies falling into each other. Her intention had been to get drunk when she first got there... but not _that_ drunk.

Billy was unamused, flipping her off.

She generously returned the gesture.

Rowen let out a long sigh. Three hours of this and she still had no idea where the tune came. _Invisible speaker? ..._ It had gotten to the point of telling terrible jokes. She was attempting anything to relieve her boredom, lazily strolling around the house, squeezing by people who hadn't already fallen to the floor.

Then, as if she fell upon the answer to her silent cry of help, Rowen found herself catching a guy step through the front door. Quite opposite to the many who'd race out of the house ready to throw up the contents of what they drank, he was pleasantly sober, looked very lost, and, on top of that, wasn't wearing a costume.

It piqued her interest.

Rowen took the chance and walked over to him. "What are you supposed to be?"

He jerked slightly, turning towards her. "Huh?"

"What are you dressed as?"

"Oh... u-uh," he stuttered, looking his outfit up and down like she had done previously. "I'm dressed as the guy who hates parties."

She smiled at his joke. "I'm Rowen."

"Jonathan," he greeted.

His smile fell and Rowen noted how he stuffed his hands in his pockets, surveying the crowd for no particular reason.

"You don't exactly look like you know what you're doing."

His smile returned, forced. "Well, I haven't been to a lot of parties, so..." he trailed off, looking around the room once more. But then he shook his head and looked at her curiously. "Have we met before?"

She smiled again. "I doubt it. Unless you've been to California before."

"California?"

"Yeah. I just moved here."

"Oh... Like the new guy, Hargrove?"

Rowen held back an eye-roll. "Yeah, that's my brother," she confirmed. " _Little_ brother."

Jonathan nodded, no more questions to fall from his mouth. He looked away again and Rowen had half a mind to assume he felt awkward. In fact, it was obvious he was. He came to a Halloween party super late, dressed in normal clothes with his hands in his pockets as if he was on the outside looking in. Even if Jonathan had come intentionally, he wasn't a party person, she could see that plainly.

But it wasn't the reason why he kept looking out into the crowd instead of talking to her. Contrary to her initial assumption, when she followed his gaze, she saw he was looking at two people in particular. There, in the middle of the mass of dancing bodies were Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler, moving and twirling and smiling like the rest. Probably just as drunk by the looks of it.

Jonathan didn't even try to hide the fact that he was staring; that, or he simply wasn't good at it.

"Did he steal your girl or something?" she asked after a while.

Jonathan startled a little, giving her a very caught-off-guard look. "U-uh, no. Uh..." he stuttered again. "Nancy's just a friend."

"We could tag-team," Rowen suggested. "You go for her while I go for him?"

She seemed to look as convincing as she sounded because Jonathan stared at her like a deer caught in headlights.

"I'm kidding," she smiled, then pointed to the punch bowl. "You want a drink?"

He started at the object in question for a moment. He nodded. "Uh... sure, yeah."

And so they squeezed through couples and others wasted, stepped over some who passed out where they sat. Rowen happily handed Jonathan a full cup, laughing at the bewildered expression on his face. He barely took a sip before his face puckered, leaving him to cough and her to pat his back.

"You get used to it after downing a few more," she assured over the shouts, dipping her own cup into the punch.

Both she and Jonathan were too caught up in the combination of too much noise and their drinks to notice that two people had been arguing behind them. But when Rowen felt someone push her back and punch splash all over her side, she stepped to the side, her mouth falling open. She turned, seeing a gaping Steve and an even more drenched Nancy.

The later grumbled, threw down her cup. Rowen hissed out the word "Asshole!", and glared at Steve in the same way his girlfriend did. He heard her loud and clear.

She wasn't waiting for him to say anything. Whether he was drunk or not, Steve was unable to find his voice and it was expected. Rowen stalked off before he could say a word, anyway. She was sweaty and sticky and punch was seeping into her favorite shawl. And that pissed her off more than being forced to put on a show for her own brother.

Pushing through people who were too drunk to notice what happened, she searched for the bathroom. Rowen found the door when she squeezed into a hallway, but as she wiggled the knob and banged on the wood, two muffled voices shouted "Occupied!" from the other side.

She rolled her eyes. "Gross."

"What the hell was that?"

Spinning around, she was met with the permanently disinterested-looking face of her brother.

She huffed. "Nothing. An asshole just spilled punch all over me."

"You mean Harrington?" His question was more a correction than anything.

"The very one," she said, flinging her arm free of punch once more.

Billy suddenly erupted into laughter.

She glared at him. "What's so funny?"

"Well, for one, the fact that you let the guy spill punch all over you."

"I didn't even know they were next to me," she argued. "What exactly was I supposed to do?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe pay more attention to what's going on instead of talking to some freak?"

Rowen began to brush through at a handful of her hair, also wreaking of punch.

"Jonathan's not a freak," she argued weakly.

Billy scoffed. "That's not what I've been told."

"Oh, so _everyone_ that doesn't hang out with you is suddenly a freak?"

"They've never failed to be before," he quipped.

Rowen only scowled, continuing to fling punch onto the carpet. Billy took a few puffs of the cigarette he had clipped between his fingers.

A beat passed, and he said, "Listen, Harrington's not going to get away with that, alright? He..."

"It was an accident, Billy. I don't care if he gets away with it," she snapped, interrupting him. "I just wanna get this stuff off of me."

Pushing past her brother, Rowen weaved through the living room once again, trying to reach the stairs. Once she came to the base, she tiptoed up, stepping over passed out couples, spilled drinks staining the wood, squirming through even more people who somehow managed to crowd the hall.

The door to the bathroom was finally found, wood knocked on and knob wiggled at as she did to the previous. She heard voices again, but this pair didn't shout. They were muffled, bantering back and forth and paying no attention to her knocking.

She groaned, wanting to give up on her mission to be rid of the smell that clung to her. But more people squished together, rendering her trapped, leaving her to stay where she stood until someone managed to move.

Then, that door opened.

She picked a bad time to try and lean against the wall. Feeling a little buzzed from the alcohol, Rowen wasn't as acutely coordinated as she usually was. And when she felt yet another, rougher push, she toppled over.

"Hey!" she cried, managing an 'ow' once her backside collided with wood. She turned in the direction of the person who knocked her down, just barely catching a glimpse of big hair and sunglasses running down the stairs. _Harrington_. "What the hell?!" Being that he was already gone, she shouted at nothing.

Rowen sighed loudly, pushing herself up, then adjusted the hair tie that kept up her ponytail. Without thinking twice about it, she grabbed for the handle of the bathroom door. Although once opened, she froze.

"Nancy?"

The younger teen was absentmindedly wiping at her top, slowing down every time she continued to do so until eventually, the towel was dropped. Nancy began to trip over her feet.

"Woah!" Rowen caught her arm. "Slow down Speedy," she laughed, holding her up.

A couple of seconds of standing and steadying themselves later and she had Nancy's arm slung around her shoulders. Rowen led her through the small hallway, slowly trailing down the staircase, stepping over the same passed out people. With a couple of near slip-ups, they managed to get downstairs, eventually sitting on the bottom step.

"Hey."

She looked up to see Jonathan in front of them with his hands in his pockets.

Rowen frowned. "Hey."

Jonathan gave her appearance a once-over. "Are you alright?"

"Well, I smell of punch and booze, but other than that? Peachy."

He nodded, catching her sarcasm. They both looked over to Nancy. She was fading, slowly beginning to doze off on Rowen's shoulder.

"What happened?"

"She's really drunk."

"Oh." Jonathan shifted in his stance, beginning to rub the back of his neck. "Well, I ran into Steve and he asked if I could take her home, so..."

She turned her head up to him. "Did he leave?"

He nodded.

She rolled her eyes. _Typical_. "Do you want me to help get her to your car?"

"No, I got it. It's fine," he told her.

After a moment of shaking her shoulders and quiet convincing, Rowen helped Nancy stand to her feet again. Then, once Jonathan had a grip on her she said a quick goodbye, plopping back onto the bottom step.

"What were you doing with Wheeler?"

Rowen didn't look up to meet his stare. "I was hoping to clean myself off but I found her in there instead. I just helped her get down the stairs."

He scoffed. "Why'd you waste your time doing that?"

"I was being nice, dip-shit," she defended.

"Whatever," he brushed her off, taking one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out under his boot. "This party is dying. Let's go."

She breathed out a 'thank you'.

Billy pulled out his keys, and they made a b-line the front door.


	5. Curiosity Voyage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SLIGHT TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter has a light mention of abuse.
> 
> NOTE: in this story, there will be a week-long gap between episode 2 and episode 3. instead of bringing dart to school on november 1st (the day after halloween), dustin won't bring him till a week later (making it november 7th).
> 
> i know the show's original timeline is due to will's anniversary, but my extension of the timeline is so I can fit things in for ro.

_Past Hawkins Post, stoplight, take a right, drive a bit, then turn the corner._ Rowen repeated the Chief's words over in her head.

Ironically, driving wasn't such a difficult thing to do after spending Halloween night at a party that got too big for the house it was hosted in. The alcohol was taken in like water, leaving people either throwing up on the front lawn or passed out somewhere in the house, alone or not so alone. But, while Rowen had had her fill like most of the partygoers, somehow she was spared from waking up with a headache.

Billy was not.

He woke up in an exceedingly bad mood and while he looked alright, his attitude was shitty. Their dad, despite drinking as much as he did, was gone before their alarms even jolted them awake, so thankfully Rowen was left to deal with one grumpy family member rather than two... but that didn't make the morning any more bearable.

After yelling at each other to get out of the bathroom or get into the car, they took their usual drive to the Hawkins High parking lot, music agoing, engine revving. Billy slid into the same parking spot for the third time in a row and somehow Rowen had a hunch he silently claimed it as his, which wasn't a surprise.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Only three days in and people seemed to enjoy their regularly scheduled entrance as if it was some kind of spectacle. It left her with more people to wave at her rather than less and, even though she found the attention uncomfortable, it wasn't an entirely bad thing. At least she knew she didn't screw up the night before.

After escaping the high school, Rowen drove down the cold streets, jacket zipped up and pulled tight around her frame in protest to the wind that practically blew threw her. She hated how easily she got cold.

The very tight parking lot of the video store came into view once again, a combination of bright neon orange and green above. The keys twirled between her fingers as she stepped out, eventually being stuffed into her jean pocket once she opened the door of 'Family Video'.

A smile twitched onto her mouth at the sight of a familiar face, one who immediately discarded the papers he held in a rather clumsy fashion when she came in. "Hey, Keith."

"H-Hey Rowen," he stuttered, adjusting his shirt despite the action having no effect.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?"

Bashfully, he nodded. "Yeah, but my manager offered me an extra shift and I need the money. Morning classes are the easy ones, anyway... Skipping a day won't hurt."

"Look at you, rebel," she smirked, making him blush furiously.

"You here to rent a movie or?..."

"Actually I came in about the job."

"The Post turned ya down, huh? Sucks."

She tilted her head. "Not exactly but... they kinda laughed me out of the building, so."

He scoffed. "I've tried getting an internship there before. Those guys are total douchebags, believe me. You're better off working somewhere like this."

Rowen nodded. "Yeah, about that... I know you said I could start as soon as Monday but I was wondering if I could start today, maybe? If it's that's possible, I mean."

Keith was suddenly silent. He hesitated, beginning to rub the back of his neck. "Oh, yeah. That. Uh... a junior guy came in yesterday morning with a full resume saying he could start right away so... since we still thought you were waiting on the Post, my boss kinda had no choice."

Rowen's gaze dropped to the counter. "Oh..."

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No, no. Don't apologize. There wasn't anything you could do about it."

"If that wasn't the only position we had open then I'd say yeah, come in tomorrow but..."

"No, yeah, you guys had to make a choice. I get it." Rowen nodded, beginning to make her way back to the front door. "Thanks anyway, though."

"Do you wanna pick out a movie while you're here?" Keith blurted out the question. "Whatever you want, it's free of charge."

She smiled at his offer. "No, that's fine. My dad always hogs the TV."

Once she was back in her brother's Camaro a long, aggravated sigh escaped her lips. Rowen let her forehead fall onto the steering wheel between her hands. What the hell was she going to do now?

She felt like yelling. Running into a wall, probably.

She got turned down... again.

For a minute she almost thought people didn't want to hire her just because she was new to town... but that made absolutely no sense. What manager would reject someone solely because they were new to town? She had _some_ experience from the jobs she worked back in California, so why wouldn't anyone give her a chance?

Everything she found was taken and what was left? Either a position she was underqualified or one she was never given a chance to tackle. Not only that, but her dad had been on her back about it ever since they moved to Hawkins. That was a little over three weeks ago. She had plenty of time to find a job and yet, there she was, still jobless.

Rowen exhaled deeply through her nose, cranking the ignition before racing out of the lot.

Now that she thought of it, 'on her back' was a generous description. Anytime he'd talk to her, the question would be 'have you found a job yet', and when she would say no, well, there was a multitude of reactions to choose from. It depended on how his mood was. Sometimes his usual ridiculing statements would be thrown her way, sometimes he'd say nothing, staying silent for long enough to where she'd end up disappearing into her room. Most of the time, though, he'd just be angry. And it wasn't just over finding a job... it was with anything she'd mess up.

Neil Hargrove never struck his daughter... though she had half a mind to assume he came close to doing it sometimes. And she knew exactly why it was always just close to.

She wasn't blind. She had seen it and lived with it long enough to know his behavior and his tendencies and what he would do to Billy when he was angry was much more escalated. Partially because their dad thought his son deserved that kind of 'discipline'. Partially because his son was what stood between him and his daughter.

Rowen was ten months older than Billy but he would always treat her as if she was the younger sibling when it came to their dad. That was always how it was and Billy never wavered from it. But... even to this day, she never knew _why_ their dad was the way he was, _why_ he got angry and yelled and occasionally threw things rather than just grounding them like a normal parent. It was the reason she dreaded what would come when he found out she lied to him. Whenever that would be, whether it was that night, a day from now... she just dreaded it.

Rolling down the gray asphalt of Hawkins's roads, Rowen lifted her wrist which displayed the thin, tan watch around her wrist. 11:58 am. Three hours till she had to be back at the high school.

Last-minute job hunting it was.

She had already been to most of the places she passed. Melvald's General Store wasn't looking for any extra help, the arcade was the same, and of course, some douchebag snagged her chance at the video store. There were other places that she had taken a shot at but, for whatever reason they had, she wasn't considered. Most of the employers were older adults that took one look at her and shook their heads and honestly, it made her angry.

Rowen quickly went through the list she made in her head of potential places, mentally crossing out names until she came to one that made her pause. _The library_. Never had she ever seen or heard of someone her age working in a library. But honestly?... She was desperate.

The towering, maroon-colored building came into view and she snagged the first parking spot she could get, taking the keys from the ignition and stepping out of the car. Rowen checked her watch once more. 12:07

With keys now dangling from her front pocket, she made her way down the concrete path, making sure she didn't trip over a deep blue bicycle before she reached the stairs. When she entered, the library was relatively empty, apart from someone tucked away with a book here and there.

"Hello." A woman with unusually large glasses and bright blouse greeted her from the front desk, twirling a pen between her fingers.

"Hi." Rowen smiled, approaching the tall mahogany structure that separated them.

"Can I help you find something?"

Rowen's mouth fell open. "Sort of. I was wondering if the library was looking to hire any help? Maybe someone to sort books and keep things in order."

"Are you a student?"

"I graduated high school last May."

The woman hummed. "Well, the library doesn't hire high school or college students during the term due to our hours," she told her, adjusting her glasses. "I would recommend reaching out to our student program. They employ college students in many other places around Hawkins in exchange for credit. Other than that, I'm afraid there isn't anything else."

 _Of course_.

WHAM!

A stack of books was dropped to her left. Rowen startled at the sudden sound, turning to face a mop of curly brown hair tucked under a red, white, and blue trucker hat. The woman seemed to have forgotten she was even there. Her full attention was now on their company. She surveyed the stack in front of her before giving the boy a subtly judgemental stare.

"Mr. Henderson," she greeted. "You know the rules. Five at a time."

He nodded. "Yup. One, two, three, four, and five." His finger trailed down the stack until he came to five, and rested his hand back onto the desk. He had a confident smile on his face.

The woman before them, however, was not convinced. She turned away, pulling out a yellow piece of paper for him to see. "Ten," she stated. "You've already had five books checked out."

His smile faltered. "My mistake," he apologized. " _However_ , I am on a curiosity voyage. And I need my paddles to travel."

Rowen's brow raised as he continued, lifting a hand onto his stack of books.

" _These book_ s... these books are my paddles."

" _Five. At. A. Time._ "

He sighed, letting his hand flop back over his other. " _Please?_ I need these books. As a young person who's curiosity is piqued beyond measure, I believe this should be allowed. In fact, I think that should be allowed for every student!" He grew more passionate with every word. "For those times when we _just. Can't._ Go to our teachers or our parents for the answer because they're just as clueless as we are." Then he turned to Rowen. "Don't you think?"

She lifted her hands from their crossed position, glancing over to the librarian. "I mean, he makes a pretty good point." All she received was a look that said 'you're not helping'.

"Mr. Henderson, I will not repeat myself. You know the rules."

He rolled his eyes. "Are you shitting me?"

"Excuse me?"

Her tone made him shut his mouth. Then, "What the hell?" He pointed to something (or rather nothing) behind the librarian. Rowen expected his plan to fail, but the older woman turned around anyway. In a second the books were suddenly off the desk and clutched in his hands, and he was off.

"Mr. Henderson!"

"I need my paddles!" he shouted, pushing his way through the front doors.

Rowen couldn't help but let out a giggle. The librarian gave her a hard glare, making her race out almost as abruptly. When she came outside, she saw the same boy at the bottom of the steps, attempting to pile his books into his backpack. Rowen walked past him, trudging down the path towards her brother's car. The keys were forced into the lock, opening it with ease.

"Woah..."

A familiar voice caught her ear. She looked up, seeing the curly-haired boy gawking at the car.

"That is a _sick_ ride."

She smirked, watching him zip up his backpack. "It's my brother's."

"Wait, hold on." he dropped the backpack, speed-walking up to the car. "Blue." He pointed, moving to look at the back. "California."

Rowen's brow pinched, watching him come back to the sidewalk where she stood.

"Are you Max's sister? Max Mayfield?"

Her eyes narrowed. "How'd you know that?"

"I'm Dustin," he introduced, extending his hand out. "Max is in my class. We're friends- or at least I think we are. I've seen you waiting for her down at the high school lot."

She stared at him for a moment, eventually shaking his hand. "You are oddly well informed, Dustin Henderson."

"Observant," he said, smiling. "Max is super cool. She's the only person that's ever beat my high score on Dig-Dug."

She couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah, Max is pretty skilled. It's good to hear she has friends. I didn't think she was making that many." She paused, suddenly remembering the time. She looked down at her watch. 12:20 pm. "Speaking of, aren't you supposed to be in school?"

Dustin's smile wavered. "Uh, yeah," He hesitated, laughing nervously. "I might have faked a cold just so I could come to the library for all those books."

She was amused. "Dedication. I like it."

"Curiosity voyage." He gave her a thumbs up.

"Good luck with that."

Dustin nodded. "Thanks."

Without another word, he began to walk back to his bike, and she opened her car door. Although something made her stop before she could climb in. "Oh- it's Rowen by the way," she said. "Just realized I never told you that."

Another toothy smile came across his face. "Cool. See you, Rowen!"

She smirked, sliding into the driver's seat of the blue Camaro while Dustin slid onto the seat of his blue bicycle.


	6. Sunglasses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SLIGHT TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter has some abuse at the end. its not heavy or thoroughly described by any means. it is very light, but i know the general topic can still be triggering for some people, so im putting this warning here.

Rowen drummed her fingers on the trunk of the Camaro in thought. She was staring at a blank right page, the one on the left being filled completely. Being a couple of minutes late wasn't unusual for Max. But now that it was ten minutes past three, and her skateboard was the only thing approaching, Rowen began to wonder. Not only was Billy the bathroom hog, but he was a stickler for being on time as well. Today was the exact opposite.

"Hey, Speedster."

Max kicked up her board before tucking it under her arm. "Doesn't Billy normally beat me here?"

"Yeah. He's probably swapping spit with some poor high school girl or something."

Max scrunched her nose in disgust. She opened the passenger door, climbed in. But it wasn't long before she poked her head out again. "Hey, is this your Halloween story?" She stuck out her hand, in it another black notebook to match the one in Rowen's lap.

Rowen looked over her shoulder. "Nope. This is." She held up the other journal in her hands. "I brought that one in case I give up on this one. You can read it if you want."

Max disappeared into the car, leaving her to bring her attention back to the mess of scribbles in her lap. A pencil dangled back and forth between her fingers, staying there instead of brushing against her empty page. She tried thinking amidst the conversations of other people, revving car engines, bicycle bells. She couldn't think much of anything all day, nevermind while she sat in a noisy parking lot. But she was finally concentrated.

"Rowen, right?"

Until she wasn't. Rowen sighed heavily, looking up from her page.

If she could remember correctly, it was Steve Harrington who was trailing over, sunglasses and all. She wasn't the best with names, but if that one accessory was any clue, she had a hunch she was right. And if she was right, she knew he was also the one who spilled punch on her.

Giving him a once over, she said, "You've got some nerve, Sunglasses."

He laughed dryly. "That's not my name."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself despite wearing sunglasses."

She watched the wheels turn in his head, his hand coming up to grab the frames. He yanked them off. "It's Steve," he introduced. "Uh, Steve Harrington."

"I like 'Sunglasses' better," she said, letting the pencil between her fingers plop onto the paper. She leaned her chin into her palm.

"What did you mean, anyway?"

"Mean about what?"

"You said I've got some nerve. What did you mean by that?"

Unraveling from her crossed-legged position, she said, "Given you're already butting heads with my brother, I'd say that's a pretty straightforward statement."

"What, because he's the Keg King now? I didn't know that meant we were butting heads."

"I mean, it's a reason. But it's more so because you spilled punch all over me."

Steve's face contorted, turned into a mess of frown lines. "Right," he muttered, seeming to recall the moment.

"You're lucky I talked him out of hunting you down this morning."

"Why?"

"Because he would've pounded you into the floor," she stated. Rowen was beginning to grow concerned by his cluelessness.

"I don't know," he countered. "I can pack a pretty good punch."

Rowen hummed. She refocused down to the journal in her lap, twirling her pencil.

"Anyway, that's... that's actually why I came over here."

She looked back up to him, squinting. "To tell me you can punch?..."

"To apologize," he told her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Really?" she mused.

"Is that so shocking?"

"No, no," Rowen said, shaking her head slightly. "But I would be lying if I said people have told me nice things about you, Steve "The Hair" Harrington."

"What people?"

Rowen chose to disregard the journal in her lap, placing it next to her. "I don't know," she shrugged. "A lot of people at the Halloween party. A redhead. Carol... something? A guy named Tommy, too. Most of the guys there, really."

Steve scoffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked like he expected to hear those names. "Well, I don't know if this makes any difference since none of them spilled punch all over you but, around here, it takes one to know one."

"So you're admitting to being 'one', huh?"

"I'm not. If anything, I should be warning you. Guys like Tommy are ten times worse."

"You realize you're still admitting to being 'one', right?"

"I'm not-..." Steve cut himself off before he could finish. He raked through his hair, sighing in frustration. Steve shook his head. "Forget it. You can believe whatever you want, I don't care. I just came here to apologize."

"You're taking a really long time to do something that only requires two words."

"Yeah, because you keep _interrupting_ me-"

"The hell are you doing here, Harrington?"

That was when another decided to join their group of two. Billy stalked over to them, lighting the cigarette between his teeth.

"Don't blow a fuse, Hargrove," Steve said. "I just came to apologize to her."

Plucking the cigarette from his mouth, Billy stared at the jock, then glanced towards Rowen. "And did he?"

Rowen rested her chin on her palm. "He's still getting there."

Billy turned to Steve. "You always take this long to, Harrington?"

"No?"

"Then what are you still doing here?" he demanded of him.

Steve stared, then flung his hands up. "I really don't know."

"First you spill punch all over my sister and now... what? You're trying to make a pass at her or something?"

Steve immediately grew flustered. "What? No!"

Billy smirked. "You're lucky I still have a killer headache from last night, Harrington. Otherwise, I'd be dragging your ass," he said, taking a step forward, poking roughly at Steve's chest. "Now unless you have more apologies for my sister... leave."

His smirk was gone. The air around them tensed, a few people began to stare... but Steve only huffed, stepped back and walked away. The smart move, if Rowen was being honest.

Billy watched him go, only turning back when Steve reached his own car. "Ro, get in the car. Let's go."

Rowen's brow raised. "Excuse me?"

"Just get in the car," Billy hissed, stalking to the driver's side. " _Move_."

With a huff of her own, she did move. Rowen slid into the passenger seat ungracefully, catching Max's attention.

"What's wrong?"

"Billy as per usual."

Billy slid in roughy as Rowen shut her door. He stared at the dash in frustration. "Why were you talking to him?"

"It's not like I wanted to," she defended, flipping through the notebook that Max handed back to her. "He was the one that came up to me."

"That doesn't mean you have to talk to him."

She scoffed. "What crawled up your a-"

Billy slammed a hand on the steering wheel. "Would you for once in your goddamn life just _listen._ " He cut her off loudly, startling both his siblings. "The guys in this place are shitheads. Harrington included. Whatever the hell he was claiming to apologize for is complete bullshit."

"...Not that I'm defending the guy, but how can you be so sure about that?"

"Because I am."

"Sounds more like you just don't like him."

"So what? You don't like him either, right?" Billy argued, lifting his hand from the wheel.

The truth? Rowen wasn't exactly sure what to think about the guy. She barely had one conversation with him... but she shrugged anyway. "I don't know. But I'm not the one that made a scene out there."

Billy scoffed. "The guy is a big-haired, pea-brained jock who deserves to fall off his little pedestal. Believe me."

Rowen couldn't help but chuckle. She knew that tone. "Yeah. You definitely don't like him."

"I don't like that he tried flirting with you of all things," he muttered.

Billy's words were meant to be kept to himself, but Rowen caught it anyway and smiled.

"Aww, are you scared I'm gonna go out on a date with him, lil brother?" she teased, attempting to pat his shoulder. She failed, he swatted at her hand, and her teasing only made him angry.

"I'm _serious,_ " he snapped again. "If there's anything I've figured out while being in this shit hole for the last few weeks it's that there are people around here that you don't wanna get involved with. And Harrington? He's one of them."

Billy pushed the key into the ignition, cranking the car up before whipping it out of the parking lot. Rowen went back to her journal, reading through the pages while battling against the tune of AC/DC in an attempt to focus. She was surprised she had been able to keep up with so many, packing every torn, worn, and well-used journal in boxes, hauling her collection across the country. She hadn't lost a single one since then, whether stuffing them in her bag or leaving some in Billy's car. They always ended up back in her room.

But, after they left that parking lot, what Rowen didn't realize was that she had lost one this time, and Steve Harrington was the one to find it.

ii:

Come the next morning, Rowen didn't ride along with her siblings to Hawkins High. Billy made sure she wouldn't.

Billy was pissed and Rowen was asleep and Max wanted to wake her up but the former was yelling and honking and she knew that she didn't have any choice but to leave. Rowen hadn't slept much in the last few days, tossing and turning and drinking coffee so she could stay awake, so it was probably a good thing that she was still sleeping when Billy all but threatened Max to get her rear-end outside.

Max was aware of what had been bothering her the day before and... truthfully? It left her confused. She wasn't a job whiz, she was thirteen. She barely knew anything about it. But she did know that Rowen deserved to get hired.

She knew Neil, too. Seven years of living with him was more than enough time for Max to notice that he was angrier than most parents, and to notice that Billy was slowly turning into the same. To see Rowen genuinely worried about what would happen if her dad found out she lied made Max worried herself. And it left her distracted all day.

"Max!"

A hand waved in front of her face.

She blinked. "Sorry, what?"

"I said if you want, you could meet me and Dustin at the arcade tomorrow. We're gonna be there all day."

"Oh, uh... yeah. Sure. That sounds cool."

"What's with you? You've been out of it all day."

She shook her head. "Sorry, I was just... thinking."

"About what? You looked like you were stuck in a trance or something."

Max bit her lip, shutting her locker. "It's my stepsister. She's been trying to find a job and my stepdad's been on her back about it."

"How come?"

At first, Max stayed silent, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder. She didn't really know how to tell him _without_ telling him. "Well... she kind of lied about her interview going well and my stepdad isn't exactly the nicest when it comes to that. He just... he doesn't like being lied to."

Lucas nodded his head, understanding, but still a little confused. "Does he know she lied about it?"

"Not yet."

Max caught how his brow pinched, how he looked at her in a way that said he didn't understand. But she didn't acknowledge it. She paused at the front doors, tucking her skateboard under her arm. "I'll see if I can get my mom to drop me off at the arcade tomorrow."

Lucas nodded. "Okay."

She gave him a small smile, pushing the left door open. Max exited the middle school, trying not to get pushed or trip as she descended the stairs, squeezing between people.

"Hey, Max!"

Gripping at her skateboard before she could drop it, Max turned around to see Dustin walking up.

"Is Rowen not picking you up today?"

Billy stood alone, leaning on the end of his Camaro. Dustin had told Max about his run-in with Rowen the day before and, after blurting it out, also how he had faked a cold. He never went into the details as to why.

"No. She didn't come with us this morning."

"Shit... I was kinda hoping I could ask her for her help on something."

"Help with what?"

"You said she writes stories, right? You mentioned it when we were trick or treating."

Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah. Why?"

Dustin grumbled, beginning his long explanation. "Mrs. Williams is on my ass about my grade. It's my writing that's bringing it down and my mom can't help me. She's kinda terrible at English, too. I was wondering if Rowen could tutor me. If she does that kind of thing, anyway... but um, do you think you could ask her for me? You know, since she's not here."

Max stared at him for a moment, mouth ajar. _Rowen could use the money_ , she told herself. "I think she'd be open to it. She's really good at English." She eventually nodded her head. "Yeah... yeah, I'll ask her, sure."

Dustin's toothy grin returned. "Awesome, thanks!"

She gave him a half-smile, dropping her board to the ground and skating away without another word.

"Oh, hey! Are you coming to the arcade tomorrow?" Dustin called out from behind her.

"Maybe!"

iii:

A knock came on their door at quarter-past six.

At first, she thought it was Billy... but then again, he never knocked for anything. Not only that, he wasn't even home. Rowen turned to look at the clock on her nightstand, wondering if she had gotten caught up in her writing. She didn't. It was still early despite the sun now fully set. The only other people that could be behind the door were her dad and Susan... but normally they didn't get home for another half hour.

Max glanced up at Rowen from her homework, confused.

Rowen returned the expression. She stood from her bed, expecting to hear how Susan and her dad came home early and what they would be having for dinner.

She wasn't entirely wrong when she opened the door, but her dad was alone, hands on his hips... and there was anger written all over his face.

"We need to talk," he said. Neil turned to his stepdaughter. "Max, leave the room please."

"But-"

"You can do your homework in the living room, just tell your mother to turn the TV down." His voice rose, making Max move a little quicker.

Three became two and he turned back to Rowen. "What the hell is up with you, hm?"

She never moved to respond, mainly confused, but hesitant to guess, too.

"I ran into a friend from Hawkins Post earlier. Bruce Coleman. Cool guy. We talked about work, about other things... then all of a sudden he started thinking about something and began to laugh... You wanna know what he was laughing about?" Neil paused, raising a finger. "He was laughing about a girl who came in on Wednesday, dressed like some 'drunk college kid', completely embarrassing herself throughout her whole interview."

Silence.

"For a second I didn't think of it," he continued, "but when he asked me if my kid's name was _Rowen,_ that's when I realized."

She blinked. "A _drunk_ _college kid_. Are you kidding me?"

"Come again?"

"I did not dress like a drunk college kid."

"Then what would you call it?"

"I don't know. Trying to look nice with what I had?"

Neil raised his brow. "So you're telling me you actually did go in there dressed like some drunk college kid?"

"No!" she objected, letting out a breath. "It wouldn't matter, anyway. They'd probably laugh at me no matter how I dress."

He began to rub at his beard. "Huh... So, you started acting like a child when they fun of you for how you dressed, and when they told you no," Neil flung his hand out, "you walked out whining like a five-year-old, hm?"

"They laughed me out of the building!"

"So you stick your chin up and walk out of there with your head held high!" he shouted.

Rowen scoffed. "You didn't hear what they said."

"I don't care what the hell they were saying about you." he snapped, _"_ Bottom line: you lied to me."

"So what? I didn't get the job. You would've yelled at me either way."

She intended to stomp out of her room as Billy always did with his clunky boots, but Neil grabbed for her wrist before she could pass and yanked her back in. A yelp escaped her mouth before she could bite at her lip, and with the way he roughly pulled at her arm, she couldn't help but cringe. It felt like he had her wrist in a death grip. But it didn't hold a candle to his glare.

"What did I tell you?" His voice was low, the same as Billy's was the day before.

She couldn't find her voice for a moment too long for his liking.

His grip tightened and he repeated, " _What did I tell you?_ "

She tensed. "No backtalk..."

"And?"

"No lying."

He nodded.

"Rowen?"

She no longer felt the death grip around her wrist, covering it with her hand, feeling it begin to throb.

Neil composed himself, straightening his shirt out of habit.

Max stood in the doorway, glancing back and forth between them. "Dustin called to make sure you were coming over to tutor him later. His mom said you could stay for dinner if you wanted."

Neil looked to his daughter expectantly.

Rowen nodded. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am. I'll leave in a little bit. Thanks, Max."

Max nodded in return, leaving immediately.

"You're tutoring?"

Her gaze jerked back to her dad. "Yeah," she muttered, rubbing her wrist. "Dustin's a kid in Max's class."

She attempted to walk out of the room for a second time, but he grabbed her wrist as he did before. Rowen bit her lip this time, swallowing the hiss she would've let out due to the pressure. Neil grabbed at the same spot he left to throb and squeezed at it again, intentionally, knowing she would hear him that way.

"Now you listen to me," he muttered. "You go to that kid's house. You teach him and you teach him good so his parents will ask you to come back. Am I understood?"

Rowen swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"And if you start slacking? If you only make things worse for that kid-"

"I _won't_ ," she interrupted, staring up at him as he stared down at her. Interruptions normally resulted in yells, or grips becoming tighter than they were... but he did neither.

He only nodded, let go of her wrist. "I guess we'll see."

Rowen dropped her gaze, lifted her wrist up to her chest as if it would help make it feel better. It was truly throbbing now, red and sore.

"You can take my car. But your brother's going to have to give his up after tonight."

Rowen nodded even though his gaze was already turned away from her. She watched him disappear back into the hall, breathing heavily, listening to his footsteps. She bolted around her room once his door clicked shut, hands running over her eyes as they shut tightly, dragging down to wipe at her cheeks. She looked around her room for her bag, slung it around her shoulder and grabbed the keys to her dad's car without a word. She bolted for the door as well.

Rowen rushed down the front porch and to the faded, tan and white truck, pushing the key into the lock on the side. But the front door suddenly creaked, and she paused. Max came after her, stopping on the steps.

"I meant to tell you about Dustin earlier."

Rowen shook her head. "It's fine."

Max nodded. Both of them knew she didn't actually have to tutor Dustin. Rowen didn't even know about it until she used it as an excuse.

"Are you okay?"

Rowen took in a deep breath. "I've been worse."

The redhead trailed down the steps, wrapping her in a hug. Rowen hugged her back, ruffling her hair lightly. "Thanks for saving my ass, Speedster."

Max pulled back without a word, making her way back up the porch, hearing the car door shut. She watched as Rowen pulled out of the driveway, only going back inside once she could no longer see the vehicle.


	7. You Can't Cry Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SLIGHT TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter also has some mentions and references to abuse in the beginning.

The difference between California and Hawkins was that Rowen couldn't go anywhere in this freezing little town.

On the west coast, she would always have the option to run away to a friends house for the night until her dad blew off steam... but in Hawkins? She couldn't go to anyone. She didn't know people here like she did at home, or at least she didn't know anyone well enough to randomly knock on their door at night, asking to sleep over for reasons she didn't want to talk about. She had that choice there, being able to avoid the angry face that she didn't want to go back to. She never wanted to go back to it, really; right now it was just escalated, as were her emotions.

She told herself a drive would be enough; she'd go around town for a while until everything felt somewhat okay again. But now that she was alone, having driven for half an hour, she felt herself doing the opposite. She could still feel the soreness in her wrist from where her dad gripped it too tightly, making her angry, making tears form in her eyes; an unwanted consequence.

But they spilled, and she found herself letting them spill. She needed to stop somewhere.

She spotted a streetlight glowing over an empty lot, Rowen turned immediately. She twisted the steering wheel left, pulling into the area and snagging the first spot she saw without a second thought. She didn't even pay attention to where exactly she'd pulled the car into. People usually didn't care anyhow, and by the time her hand pushed the gear into park, she didn't care either. Rowen let her arms fold onto the top of the wheel, immediately resting her face on her hands. It was only then that she could feel tears fall onto her wrists. The pressure on her left one from the weight of her head made her wince, but despite the newly forming pain in it, she kept her face planted on top. It wasn't enough to make her open her eyes and stare out at whatever was happening around her. She didn't want to see whatever was happening either.

Everyone in this town always looked so happy. Whether fake or not, right now, it all made her angry. The genuine happiness of some families along with the forced, 'pretend like everything's okay' personas pushed at her nerves. People that actually loved or at least liked coming home made her envious, she admitted it, but it was their ignorance that really got to her. It pissed her off. Every time she met someone with that kind of life it was as if they couldn't comprehend the idea of other people lacking a happy, go-lucky home. Rowen wasn't sure if Hawkins was like that- she was starting to believe it was -but she knew from what her siblings would tell her that people liked to pretend.

The disappearances of Will Byers and Barbara Holland were two things she was quickly filled in on by Max.

Will was one of the four boys she referred to as stalker, weirdly. But, questionable nicknames aside, Max had continued to tell her how his disappearance was quite a scare for everyone, as was Barb's. The town had a near meltdown, sent search parties for weeks, and while Will eventually turned up... Barb didn't. Rowen assumed search parties were kept out and about for her, but Max shook her head and said they weren't. Nothing else was done after Will was found.

It didn't seem like a situation that would bother her at first, but when the people who told her everything shrugged an acted unbothered by it, she felt almost... angry. Angry for two people she didn't know.

Rowen was never one to deny moving on. Everyone had to do that eventually... but people weren't just moving on. They _wanted_ to forget. And she remembered it clearly.

Yesterday, she had asked around about it while desperately looking for employment. Two people were polite enough to listen to her questions, but when she actually _asked_ them, one brushed it off and the other pretended as if they were clueless towards the disappearances. It was as if they were scared to tell a newcomer about something that didn't leave a good impression.

Most people she'd see around Hawkins acted like that. They put up a mask and pretended like everything was great when it really wasn't. People just wanted to be perfect and live perfect little lives here and it didn't help the fact that she knew she couldn't, which was probably why she was crying in her dad's car in an empty parking lot instead of talking to someone.

TAP! TAP!

She jumped, sniffing and furiously wiping at her cheeks. Company was what she was trying to avoid with this unplanned late-night drive, and the last thing she wanted. Her gaze turned to her left, presenting a bearded and probably just as perturbed face.

"You can't park here, kid," he informed, pointing to his right. "Unless you were gonna come into the police station, you gotta move."

She sniffed again, rolling down her window. "Sorry uh," she muttered, rubbing at her eyes. "Sorry. I had to stop and this was the closest place... I can't exactly drive with blurry vision."

His stare softened. "You okay?"

Rowen nodded quickly. "Yeah, better."

His lips pressed in a tight line, the hat on his head was adjusted. Now that she thought about it, she probably didn't _look_ fine...

He took a step back, beckoning her outside. "Step out for a second?"

It wasn't a question. She knew it wasn't, even if he made it sound as if it was... As if she had a choice. Whether to make her feel comfortable or keep her from thinking she wasn't in trouble, she didn't know.

Rowen unbuckled her seatbelt, stepped out, pushing the car door closed before crossing her arms. She expected something along the lines of 'you're obviously not okay now tell me what's up'... But, after he stuffed his hands in his pockets, his eyes narrowed.

"Hold on," he said. "Weren't you the kid that knocked on my car window a couple days ago?"

Now that he brought it up, she realized he was right. Rowen couldn't remember his name but she knew he was the guy she came to about finding the video store. The SUV at the front entrance of the station was an instant reminder.

"Yeah," said she, pointing to herself. "Rowen."

"Hopper," he greeted.

He didn't bother to shake hands and, honestly, she was grateful for it. She was still aware of the bruise around her wrist... but she wasn't aware that her sleeve had slipped down her arm, revealing it, giving Hopper a clear view of the green splotches.

A beat passed and the chief let out a long sigh. "So, I _was_ gonna give you the ole 'what are you doing crying in the police station parking lot at night' question, but with that look on your face I don't think I'm gonna get an answer."

Rowen wiped at her nose with her sleeve. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't talk to anyone about the situations that 'leave me crying in a police station parking lot at night'."

He hummed. "Well, situations that leave you crying aside-..." he lifted a finger, "if I can tell you anything, it's that the remedy for all problems is at Ricky's Diner."

Rowen gave him a confused look.

"The guy makes the _best_ apple pie. It'll brighten your mood no matter what, I guarantee it."

Normally, Rowen would have rolled her eyes at a joke like that, but with the way he exaggerated his words, she couldn't help the amused look that came across her face.

"Do you think he could get me a job too?" she asked, the amused expression now replaced with a frown.

"Is that why you asked me for directions to the video store after storming out of the Post?"

She cringed. "You saw that?"

"I was drawn into what I was doing but I still saw you stomp out, yeah."

She fell silent, drawing in a breath before dropping her gaze to her feet.

"You know, you shouldn't have to worry so much about a job," Hopper offered. "Focus on school first. Graduate."

"I graduated in May, actually," Rowen said, quick to correct him. "And I decided to not go to college, so... my dad's pushing me to find something."

The chief frowned. "Does he know you're out here right now?"

"He thinks I'm tutoring a kid in my sister's class."

Hopper began to rub his beard. He was growing frustrated; not with Rowen, but the situation he started to see and understand. She was here, sniffling and wiping at her cheeks because of her dad, because she couldn't find a job. The guy was pushing her to an extent that made her lie to get out of the house, there was a bruise on her wrist...

He didn't want to assume. God, he really didn't.

Hopper had seen enough bruises in his lifetime whether they were on others or on himself; he knew when they were old and when they were new. The one that Rowen tried covering with her shirt sleeve was far from old and the way it wrapped around her wrist told him she wasn't just clumsy. It made that familiar anger bubble up in his chest, the same anger that he felt when he realized the body in the morgue was not Will Byers, but a dummy replica.

 _Could_ Ricky offer her a job?... No. The guy had plenty of waiters, waitresses, cooks. Melvald's?... No. She would hate every waking moment. Hopper had heard the name Hargrove before, he knew he had; Flo mentioned the name about week ago, maybe two. Hawkins rarely saw new residents, and if Rowen had been looking for a job since she got here, then most of the stores that came to mind were out of the question.

He didn't have anywhere else that would take a chance on her... except for maybe one place.

"Why don't you come work at Hawkins PD?" he offered.

"What?"

"Here, at the police station," Hopper explained. "You could work here."

Her mouth fell open, then closed. "You're serious?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, why not? It's nothing too difficult. You just take calls and write down what you hear, make sure the guys know what's goin' down for the day. Flo's our secretary, but she works her ass off, answers the phone nonstop. She could use the help."

Rowen was at a loss. "But... wait. Don't you need certain qualifications to work at a police station? Like a college degree or something?"

"You'll be answering phones and taking reports, you'll be fine," Hopper assured her, smiling. "The most interesting thing we've gotten in Hawkins in the past few years was an owl attacking an elderly woman's hair because it thought it was a nest."

_Even he thinks this place is dull._

"You're eighteen, right?"

She nodded.

"So you're old enough. And you said you graduated, so the hours won't be an issue."

Rowen shifted on her feet, attempting to process everything she was hearing. She knew her mouth hung open but she couldn't find it in her to close it.

"And to start," he said reaching in his back pocket. Hopper pulled out his wallet, snatching a ten from one side before handing it to her. "So your dad doesn't ask why you came back from tutoring with no money."

She probably looked like a statue, staring at him in the blank way she was. She broke herself out of it, tearing her gaze down to the green bill he extended to her. Rowen took it. "Can you actually do this?" she asked tentatively, folding the money in her hand. "Hire me, I mean."

"I'm the chief of police, I could _replace_ Flo with you if I wanted to."

"Really?"

"No, she'd kill me if I did that, actually," he admitted. "But I can still hire you."

Her gaze dropped back down to the money gripped between her fingers. Rowen bit her cheek, tossing his offer back and forth in her head.

"So... this job. When would you want me to start?" she asked.

He smiled. "Just come by Monday morning and I'll fill you in on everything. You don't have to start then, we'll just get you adjusted."

For a moment Rowen forgot her words. She didn't realize all she had done was nod until it hit her, making her shake her head. "Um, thank you," she said, voice suddenly louder than the previous mumbling. " _Really._ You're really helping me out."

Hopper shrugged. "Well, I know how hard finding a job is."

She looked back down to the money still gripped in her hand, stuffing it in her jean pocket.

"You get home safe, alright?"

Those words normally struck a nerve any time they would be thrown her way, leaving her to mentally roll her eyes and grumble at it... But they didn't this time. Hearing the chief say those words almost felt... comforting. Comforting in a way similar to how the ten-dollar bill felt sitting in her back pocket.

Hopper left her be and made a b-line for the front door of the station. Once reaching it though, he paused and turned back around.

"Hey," Hopper called. "Don't come in before me. Come in around 11 o'clock, alright?"

Rowen nodded as she grabbed for the door of her dad's truck. "Got it."

"Monday."

"Monday," she agreed.

Hopper dipped his head in approval, gripping the door handle. "Good. Now get out of my parking lot."

ii:

When the porch lights of their house came into view, Rowen noted how Billy's car filled the empty space in the driveway.

She rolled her eyes at how he parked, attempting to maneuver around the Camaro so she could get their dad's car in its usual spot. He hated when it wasn't.

Twisting the key and turning the engine off, she checked her watch. _7:50_. Around an hour and a half passed. _That's enough time to be gone for a tutoring session, right?_

The house seemed quiet from the outside, even as she reached the front porch. When she came inside the TV was the first thing she heard. Her dad's snoring was the second thing she heard. He was asleep in the recliner, so she could retreat to her room without going through an uncomfortable stare down or any more angry conversations.

Quietly, she stepped through the living room into the dining room, making a b-line for her bedroom. But the growling in her stomach made her stop. Max had mentioned Dustin's mother offering to make dinner, so she couldn't snag any leftovers. Rowen mentally groaned, wishing she hadn't said that.

She picked a banana from the bunch on their kitchen counter, retreating back into the hall towards her room. Rowen twisted the doorknob open, intending to throw her bag on her bed, but she was met with Max, knocked out in the middle of it with paper lying at her feet.

Rowen smirked. _Fell asleep doing homework,_ she thought. _She's turning into me._

Instead, she set her bag down at her nightstand, tugging out the ten-dollar bill from her jeans and stuffing it inside. Frankly, she had a hard time believing that her conversation with Hopper actually happened. All this time spent looking for a job and she finally found one after parking somewhere she wasn't supposed to. She was thankful for it, of course, but the irony... it was painful. Physically painful.

She quickly changed into a long sleeve shirt and pajama pants before collecting the multiple pieces of paper off her bed, trying to be quiet, annoyed with the loud crumbles of her stepsister's homework. The pile was placed onto Max's bed, as were her pencil and shoes, then her bookbag. Rowen didn't have the heart to wake her up and move her, so instead, she attempted to slide the redhead over to one side.

Then another door clicked open.

"Ro?..."

She turned around to see her brother, barefoot but still in the same clothes he wore earlier. He looked exactly the same as he did that morning, all except for the expression on his face. Someone looked angry.

Her brows knitted together. "What crawled up your butt and died?" she muttered quietly.

"Where were you?"

"Why do you care?"

"Just answer the question," he grumbled.

Rowen made a face. "Just answer the question." she mocked.

She dragged her bedroom door closed. "I was tutoring a kid in Max's class," she told him, arms crossed. " _Again_ , why do you care?"

Billy huffed. "Well, while you were out, you missed a screaming match."

"What are you talking about?"

They heard a shift in another room, making Billy jerk his head in the direction of the living room. He scowled. Billy suddenly grabbed her wrist, dragging her into his room.

"Ow!" she winced, whisper-yelling. He grabbed the bruised one. "Billy let go!"

But he kept his grip, scoffing. "Don't be a baby-"

"Seriously, let. Go."

She jerked her wrist out of his grip, covering it with her other hand. It was beginning to throb a little.

Billy's gaze followed down to it. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Don't bullshit me, Ro," he muttered, grabbing at her hand so he could see the spot she was hiding. She had no choice but to extended her arm out, giving him a clear view of the bruise.

Billy glared down at it. "Did he do this?"

She didn't answer.

"Is that why he started yelling at me the second I got back?" he pushed.

Still no answer.

" _Rowen_."

" _Yes_ , okay," she snapped. "I mean... I guess it is. He found out I lied to him about my interview and blew up."

Billy stared daggers at it. He mumbled something under his breath, moving past her for the door.

Rowen blocked him. "Hey, don't..."

He tried getting past her, but she only pushed him back.

"Don't be an idiot," she hissed.

"You're the idiot letting him get away with that," he snapped.

"Oh, so you _don't_ let him get away with what he does to you, hm?"

Billy shut his mouth, for the first time in a long time.

"Do I want him to get away with it? _No_. Is he still our dad? _Sadly_. We can point fingers at him all we want but he'd still get away with it."

She was only making him more frustrated. "You're telling me to ignore what he did?" he hissed.

"You think not ignoring is any better?" Rowen snapped. "Standing up to him only makes him _angrier_."

Admitting it made her feel helpless. It made Billy feel that way too... and that he hated it. She knew he did because she hated it too. Only, Billy had a nearly obsessive need to be in control of everything and the situation between them and their dad was the one thing he couldn't steer. It didn't bother her the way it bothered him. If it did, she would have let him walk out of his room, let him try to steer that situation anyway and deal with the consequences later.

Billy began to shift back and forth on his feet, dragging his hands down his face. He plopped onto his bed. "This is bullshit."

"No shit, Captain Obvious."

He glared up at her.

"You remember what we promised, right?" she asked.

Billy nearly rolled his eyes, but he nodded all the same.

Rowen just barely smirked. "Maybe when we go back home you won't be so pissy," she muttered.

Rowen could've sworn she almost got a laugh out of him. The corners of his mouth just barely twisted up. She was probably just tired, though, which is why she began to leave his room headed for her closed door.

"Back to the beach," Billy muttered.

She paused in her tracks, gaze kept on the door. _The beach_. She nodded to herself, opening the door, shutting it behind her.


	8. Connect the Dots

When Monday came, Rowen found that her nerves suddenly resurfaced.

Come Sunday afternoon, she found the courage to let her dad know that she found someone who would hire her. His reaction was nothing more than what she expected: slightly surprised yet overall unphased. Susan actually seemed overjoyed for her which, in retrospect, wasn't something any of them were used to. Rowen would be lying if she said it didn't make her feel a touch more confident...

But, once the sun rose, her anxiety began to creep back up with it.

Billy was in a sour mood, too. Not even the sentimental turn her conversation with him took a couple days before could change it when they all woke up that morning.

She knew there was no way she was going to be able to take their dad's truck to the police station. He left before they did every morning and obviously needed transportation to get back home. The only other car available was Billy's... But that was when his mood became even sourer. If it was at all possible.

They could have argued about it until he turned blue in the face, but Rowen refused to budge from her stance. She needed to take the Camaro again; there was no other way she could possibly get to work.

Billy's pride came out during this conversation, of course. A few days was bearable... but _this_? He didn't want people to _continue_ to see his sister taking his car and pick him up at the end of the school day. A big blow to his reputation was what he called it, not to mention the fact that it was _his_ car.

Rowen rolled her eyes so much in a span of ten minutes that she thought they might get stuck in the back of her head.

They both had a knack for being stubborn, arguing almost to the point of insanity. Rowen was always more stubborn, though, and now that she had a job to get to, that stubbornness only elevated. So, to put it simply, as they stalked out to the shiny blue car, she told her seventeen-year-old brother to suck it up. Admittedly, his reaction was funny. A list of profanities was mumbled under his breath and for a few seconds, Billy's face nearly matched the color of Max's hair. From the time she climbed out of the passenger's seat to the time she drove away from Hawkins High, she could feel him glaring daggers into the back of her head.

And she could still feel it, even after she was far away from the school.

Rowen made sure to come to the station at eleven on the dot. After Hopper, like he told her to. She didn't exactly know what to call him. Hopper, Chief, Chief Hopper. Definitely not Jim. That day could go into an unnecessarily long conversation about why adults hated it when kids would call them by their first names.

Then again... who knows. Maybe he didn't care, maybe the clothes she picked were fine for taking calls and writing reports as people came in and out of the station... maybe she was just thinking too much.

Rowen was rarely nervous around people, but ever since she began to stretch herself thin trying to find someone to employ her, she found that this uncommon feeling etched its way into her, even with the knowledge that the guy who did employ her seemed to be a relatively nice person.

She parked in the same spot she had Friday night, keys jiggling in her pocket when she stepped out of the car. Rowen grabbed for the cool metal of the front door as she approached, feeling instant relief for wearing a long sleeve shirt after a cool front hit her in the face inside. Her hand tugged at the left sleeve immediately, hoping that it wouldn't slip up at any point during the day. By now, her bruise was very visible, therefore makeup was useless, so she was left to hope that her shirt would hide it.

"Hello." An older woman greeted her, wide glasses and a warm smile adorning her face.

Rowen smiled back. "Hi."

The woman lifted up a finger. "You must be Rowen."

Rowen's brow raised. "Uh, yes. I am."

"Hopper told us all about you when he got in this morning," she explained. "I'm Florence, but you can call me Flo. Come on 'round."

She beckoned Rowen to come through the open door at her right. "He insisted that he'd be fine showing you the ropes on his own but I know the second I leave he'll be pilled up with phone calls and places to go like he is right now. Besides, it's better you learn from the person you'll be helping in the first place."

"That's a relief," Rowen admitted cheekily, letting Flo take her bag and place it next to the chair behind her desk. "I didn't see his car, so was wondering how he would 'show me the ropes' when he isn't even here."

Flo chuckled. "That would be a sight even if he was here."

Rowen sat, fidgeting in the awkward silence, folding her hands in her lap.

"You alright, sweetheart?"

She met Flo's concerned gaze. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine," she told her. "I'm just... I'm wondering why he offered me the job."

Flo looked at her quizzically.

"I mean I'm grateful for it, of course." Rowen said. "I just didn't think that a police station would hire an eighteen-year-old."

The older woman cracked a smile. "Please, you've got nothing to worry about," she assured. "Hawkins is a small town and frankly, age doesn't matter with a job like this one. What people will notice is the fact that you're helping a poor old woman out."

"Really?"

" _Believe_ me. Besides, I know the station will take _anyone_ if it means I'm not here every waking moment."

"You're damn right." A humorous voice piped up from the back. Rowen turned to see an officer reclined back in the seat at his desk, newspaper covering most of his face.

"That's Powell." Flo introduced, her lips now in a tight line.

Rowen threw an amused smile his way before shaking her head. "I'm just nervous," she admitted, watching the older woman rearrange a stack of papers on her desk.

Flo smiled. "You'll do just fine."

ii:

For the first half-hour, Rowen would watch what the older woman did, observing, listening. They would occasionally switch, Flo letting her take a swing at the so-called ridiculous phone calls (which was something she learned to be quite true. People complained about everything) while she wrote things down, then they would switch again, and Rowen would be writing things down.

By the time 12 o'clock rolled around, Rowen had taken over completely and Flo sat there in her lonesome with a content smirk plastered onto her face as she watched. It was nothing major that needed to be mastered. Hopper was being completely literal when he said all she would be doing was taking calls and writing reports down. Her nerves were the sole reason for making it seem like she had to climb a mountain to do what she would be doing, but even that eventually disappeared along with the rest of her doubts. Flo was a very reassuring person despite the initial tight-lipped expression given when people first walked into the police station. It made Rowen feel more comfortable and she appreciated it. Even the quiet look of approval from the barren desk she sat at was supportive.

Aside from the lengthy calls from complaining residents and reports of which half were thrown out, Rowen let Powell know where he needed to go a grand total of once and she hadn't seen him since. In fact, other than Flo, she hadn't seen anyone else since she came in aside from a few nameless officers.

That is until the door swung open to present a pair of voices going back and forth.

Rowen labeled one as Hopper straight away, but with a man barking complaints in her ear, she found it impossible to do anything else. She had already written down what his problem was, told him she would send help, yet he was still complaining heavily about the problem.

"Mr. Neary, you've explained this to me already. I told you we'd send someone to come speak with you."

This only further pushed his rambling.

"Hey, California."

Hopper's voice etched its way in between her ear and the phone, distracting amidst the rambles she was trying to listen to. She held up a finger, silently telling him to hold on. "Yes... _yes,_ I heard you," she told the voice on the other end. She rolled her eyes. "Mr. Neary, you've told me this already."

And then she heard something that most definitely wouldn't be disclosed to Flo. "Excuse me?"

Now she looked up to Hopper, who in return looked at her confused. She resorted to taking the phone away from her ear, letting it dangle in her hand. Now they both could hear the Neary's voice wail away in complaints about his neighbor. Eventually, she leaned forward to speak into the phone again. "Listen, jackass, I said we'll have someone come by to speak with you and that's what's gonna happen- don't bad mouth the messenger."

She wasn't sure if her words reached his ears, but either way, Rowen hanged up immediately. Her gaze shifted over to Hopper, who was now searching through a desk drawer.

"Nothing more interesting than an owl attacking an elderly woman's hair, huh?"

He looked up from the map he was unfolding, shrugging. "You can never be completely accurate with those things when you work at a police station."

She never agreed with anything more.

"So what'd ole Neary call to complain about?"

Rowen folded her forearms, looking down at the writing on the small notepad. " _Well..._ according to him, many farmers' crops have been poisoned by one of their neighbors. A guy called Merrill?... Mr. Neary thinks the guy decided to add his crops to the list and poison them last night."

Hopper's brows knitted together. He pulled out a red pen, waving her over to the desk his map was on top of. "C'mere."

She abandoned Flo's desk, moving to stand next to him.

"You've got better eyes than me." Hopper began to remove papers from the bulletin board. "Look for the name Danford Creek. Right above it is Neary's farm. Draw an X there."

She dragged her hand along the map, searching for the name until she came upon it, marking the spot above the name.

"What's the news, Chief?"

She looked up to see another man walk in with Powell.

"Rowen, this is Callahan." Hopper introduced. "Callahan, Rowen Hargrove. She's gonna be helping Flo out from now on."

"Finally got someone to relieve us of the many hours of Flo, huh?" Callahan joked.

"Jokes later," Hopper interjected. "I need to know all the farms that got hit."

She smirked, shifting to the left of the desk before leaning her hands against it.

"Well, there's Eugene's farm," Powell said, joining the group.

Hopper pointed to her. "Draw an X there."

"And we found some more by Gilbert's farm."

Rowen drew an X on every location they listed. "Anywhere else?" she asked.

The two officers went silent.

"That was it," Powell said.

"That was it or did you guys just get tired?" Hopper questioned.

"It was getting dark."

"It was getting really dark."

The chief rolled his eyes. "They're called flashlights you dip-shits."

The X's Rowen drew on the map distracted her from the following conversation. She looked over the marks repeatedly, confusion budding, wheels turning. There was something sticking out to her about the way the locations aligned, something that was there but not close enough to see...

"They look like they're going in circles..."

The conversation stopped.

"What?"

She looked up to the three. "The locations. They look like they form circles."

Hopper came to the other side of the desk, staring down at where she was pointing on the map.

"Like if it was 'connect the dots' or something," she thought aloud, beginning to connect the locations, drawing circles. "I don't know if that means anything, I just noticed."

Hopper shook his head. "No, no... I think you're onto something," he told her, staring intently at the map. He placed his finger on a white square in the center of the circles... and then he took the map. Hopper stood from his leaned position on the desk, folding the map in his hand while grabbing for his hat from the coat rack at the same time.

"Chief, what you doin'?" Powell asked.

Rowen looked between the two "Where's he going?"

"Chief!"

But Hopper was already out the door.

iii:

When 3 o'clock rolled around, Rowen found herself at their familiar spot in Hawkins High's parking lot.

She'd almost forgotten about her siblings beforehand, completely distracted by the crop situation happening around town. After Hopper left in a rush, she barely saw him again for the remainder of the time she was at the station. Powell told her that the poisoning of the crops had been an ongoing issue. Something about a sticky substance covering dead crops and pumpkin patches. He tried to ease her confusion, although he himself was still confused about it, so they were all left to question the situation... and to wonder why Hopper was so invested in it. Even now as Rowen waited for her siblings, she thought about it. The marks on the map that connected, forming circles circling circles, the spot Hopper was pointing to.

"Hey." She looked up to see Max step off her skateboard.

"Did you tell Dustin that I could tutor him?" Rowen asked.

The redhead nodded, kicking up her board before tucking it under her arm. "He said you could come at 7 tonight."

"Did his mom actually offer dinner this time?" She knew Max was the only one she could joke about that subject with.

A smile just barely twitched onto her stepsister's face. " _Yes_."

The look on Max's face made her chuckle. Rowen had left her feeling slightly guilty on Saturday morning after telling her that a banana was all she could eat the night before without raising questions.

"The hell you laughing at?"

Rowen turned to her right to see Billy walk up to the car.

"Nothing," she said, tossing him his keys. The low grumble and jerk at his keys didn't go unnoticed. "What's got you so grumpy?"

" _Nothing,_ " Billy mocked. The car door was jerked open before he roughly slid into the driver's seat. Rowen ignored his grumpiness, sliding off the back of the car.

"Hey, Ro?"

She glanced up at Max. "What?"

"You remember that guy that Billy got mad at? The one who was talking to you?"

"Yeah... Why?"

Max glanced at her, opening the passenger door. "He's staring over here."

Rowen followed Max's previous gaze. Sure enough... Steve _was_ staring. But he turned away the second she caught him, fiddling with the keys in his hands, climbing into his own car.

She felt the Camaro she sat on come to life. "Hey, shit-birds! Lounging time is over, let's go!"

Rowen and Max rolled their eyes simultaneously.

" _Very_ classy with the nickname."


	9. The Lizard You Can't See

"Ok, so I think I know why you're failing English."

Rowen stared down at the pile of graded papers in near horror. "Your teacher made it clear: your grammar is all over the place."

Dustin groaned. "Yeah, it's shit. I know."

"But your writing never seems to fit together either. Like you'll start talking about one thing and then go to another topic." She circled a few places in the paragraphs. "And, don't get me wrong, it kind of relates to what you were writing before... But at the same time, when you read it all together, it doesn't make sense."

Dustin flung his hands up in exasperation. "Great. First my grammar's shit and now I can't make sense either."

"Oh c'mon, don't be so hard on yourself," Rowen said, giving him a sympathetic look. "Everyone needs practice. You just need to learn how to go from one point to the next."

Dustin only sighed in defeat, leaning his head in his hand. "Ok, so how do I do that?"

She smiled. "Again, _practice_. I'll help you out, don't worry. That's what you're mom's paying me for right?"

Dustin's gaze slid down to the table, smiling. He let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah... Right. Totally. It's not like I asked you to tutor me because I wanted to hang out with you or something."

Rowen's eyes narrowed. She saw his cheeks just barely flush red.

"Well if you did, that'd be okay too." She handed him back his stack of English assignments of which he immediately put on the opposite end of the table.

Dustin then reached for his bookbag, pulling out a black journal. He held it up sheepishly. "I uh, got one like yours," he smiled. "Max said you had a ton of these."

"I have quite a few, yeah."

"I thought it could be something that I could use for practice. Like I could make notes and stuff from what you tell me and come back to it when I need it."

Rowen smiled again. "That's smart of you."

"Thanks," he grinned, opening the notebook. "So um... basically, last Friday, I got my English teacher to give me a chance to make up one of my assignments. It was a fictional story- I completely bombed it. But she's letting me rewrite it."

He showed her the first few pages in his journal. They were somewhat filled in, mostly with short paragraphs and side notes. "I was hoping you'd help me with the whole thing, but what I really need help with is something I haven't written down yet."

"And what would that something be?"

Dustin sat back in his seat, folding his hands over each other, then flat on the table. "Basically, it's a supernatural story, you know? Ghosts, monsters, the cool stuff."

Rowen nodded, ushering him to continue.

"So the main character, he finds this... _creature_ as he's coming home. It's really small, it makes weird noises, he has no idea what it is. At first, I thought he'd take it to the police or something 'cause you know... it's weird. It appeared out of nowhere and he doesn't know what it can do."

"But?"

"But it isn't dangerous. Or at least he doesn't think it is. So, he doesn't think taking it to the police is a good idea because if it _is_ just a harmless little creature... he's afraid they might hurt it."

"Okay... That makes sense," Rowen said. "It sounds like a pretty solid idea, so... what is it that you need my help with, exactly?"

"The thing is... he's curious. He wants to figure out what it is but he can only figure out so much by himself. And I think he _really_ wants to show it to someone. But I don't know if he should and if he _does_ , I don't know who he should show it to. What would make the most sense?"

Rowen stared down at the table, thinking. "Well, it's your decision obviously, but if he _does_ decide to show it to someone, does he have any friends that he could show it to? People he trusts?"

Dustin sat in thought for a moment.

"I think so," he began, fiddling with his hands. "He has friends. Close friends. But he's not sure if they'll believe him."

"Well, if they're close friends like you say they are, then wouldn't they believe him? If he's honest, then they should be open to hearing whatever he has to say."

Dustin nodded, his gaze fixated on the scribble-filled notebook. "Ok, yeah." He grabbed for the pencil to his left, jotting something down. His gaze turned back to her. "So he's just gotta convince them that he's really serious and when he shows them, they'll believe him and it'll all be cool."

Rowen opened her mouth. "Uh... well, when he shows them, they'll believe that he _found a weird creature_ , yeah. But you're missing something. You said it yourself, he has do idea what the thing is. People won't just believe that something they've never seen before is harmless. He has to have information to back that up so no one will try to hurt it like he's scared they will." She pointed a finger at him. "Assuming this thing can be killed. Or can it?"

Dustin shrugged. "I don't know yet. I'm still figuring that part out. And whether or not it's dangerous."

"Okay," she said. "Well, until you figure that out, we can start with your grammar." Rowen gave him a knowing look, one which made a bashful smile appear on his face.

She paused, looking over her shoulder. "Before that though, where's your bathroom?"

Dustin pointed behind her. "It's at the end of the hall. The last door on the right."

Rowen stood, leaving the table.

Rowen knew that Dustin's bad grammar wasn't the sole reason for her being there. He wasn't lying when he said he needed help, his writing proved that to her all on its own. But if he had asked her to tutor him partially to hang out with her, she wouldn't be surprised. She did catch a group of Ghostbusters staring at her a few days ago, after all.

Dustin never came to her about tutoring himself, but when she didn't show up after school on Friday, he got Max to ask her about it. He made an effort to get her there which, in hindsight, was probably a little weird considering they only met once, nevermind the fact that she never told him she was good in English or wrote stories. But Dustin was a nice kid, and she thought it was sweet that he asked her for help instead of an actual tutor. Besides, helping him out was one thing she believed she would enjoy while in Hawkins.

Her job was another, she guessed. Both kept her away from the house for a few hours and both provided her with money. They brought her closer to what she wanted and, dare she say, she was happy. She was happy that Hopper caught her crying in her dad's car. She was happy a thirteen-year-old made a weirdly persistent effort to get her to tutor him. At the very least, they made living in Hawkins a little more bearable.

Rowen's gaze followed down the dimly lit space. The bathroom was at the end of the hall, as she expected it to be. But... strangely, as she walked further down, the hall grew colder. The space was narrow and relatively short, so to go from being comfortable to feeling a little chilly... Was it supposed to be like that? Did they have an airconditioning problem?

Something shrieked behind her.

" _Jesus_." Rowen drew in a sharp breath, nearly jumping out of her skin.

She turned to face a door opposite her.

Rowen's gaze briefly went back down the hall. She could just barely spot the back of Dustin's head. He was oblivious, sitting at the coffee table with his face lit by the television, while the dining room behind him was left empty. Rowen recalled how he told her that they owned a cat. She had yet to see the tabby that Mrs. Henderson affectionately called Mews and while her mind automatically went to that for the answer... she knew that the shriek she just heard definitely didn't come from a cat. If it did... then Hawkins had some weird felines.

The sound came again, shorter and gurgling.

_Definitely didn't imagine it._

It came again.

_Definitely not a cat._

What was Dustin hiding in there?

Warily, Rowen took a step towards the door. She heard the noise a fourth time... then a purr followed. She turned towards a tan and white cat to her left. Mews appeared from another room, staring her down in typical feline fashion before trotting off.

Now she was confused. The sound didn't come from Mews... but Dustin never said anything about having any other pets. So what was in there?

"Rowen?"

She jumped.

Dustin stood at the end of the hall, looking at her in slight concern. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry uh..." She trailed off, looking back and forth between him and the door. "I just-" her finger pointed towards the door, "I heard something shriek in there. I know you said you had a cat but I just saw him go into the living room."

Dustin's eyes widened just a touch. "O-oh! Yeah, I have another pet. It's a... it's a lizard."

"A lizard?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "He's a talkative little guy. He hates it when I leave him alone, never shuts up."

Rowen stared blankly at the thirteen-year-old.

"Should we get back?" Dustin asked, pointing his thumb behind him.

"Uh.. yeah. I, uh... I still haven't gone to the bathroom yet. Just give me a second?"

He nodded, giving her a small smile before trailing back to the living room.

Rowen watched as he left, eventually trailing her gaze back to the door. _A lizard, huh_.

She never heard the sound again. Not as she went into the bathroom or came out, not as she slowly walked down the hall, waiting to hear it again. It was just... quiet.

ii:

The next few days felt more like a routine than any other time she could recall.

Rowen woke up to the sound of Max banging on the bathroom door, Max would yell at Billy to hurry up and he would yell back. Rowen would roll her eyes, forcing herself to leave the warmth of her bed because she actually had a job to get to. She was always the first one to finish getting ready and the first to eat if they had the time. If she wasn't, well... then Billy would try to leave without her to save himself the embarrassment of his sister taking his car. Rowen always beat him to it, but that only pushed him to complain. And complain he did. Every morning.

She didn't have enough energy to care, though. She had no other option, therefore he didn't either. But _God_ did she wish she had a sock to stuff in his mouth so he would shut up.

His complaining was turning into a regular part of their routine, too, as were the waves she received from Tina and... Carol? If she remembered correctly? They were two girls who somehow still clung to her brother's arms and attempted to reach for her good graces every time she showed up. And when they would leave, Tommy would appear before she could climb into the driver's seat. His attempt to flirt was, to put it in her terms, miserable. While any highschool girl probably would've fallen right into his charms, Rowen did all she could to not roll her eyes.

Tommy was a grade-A asshole, according to her brother and about seven other people. Billy didn't exactly have the right to point fingers, but she knew if he ever called someone an ass, then that usually meant they were. On top of that, Tommy and Carol were supposedly dating. It was weird to hear that they were, considering Carol's attention was on Billy and Tommy's was on her, but Rowen didn't want to get herself dragged into yet another glorious trial of teen drama.

In short, when Tommy would come up to her in the morning, the "I have to get to work" excuse was used repeatedly.

Her afternoons were the same repetitive process as the mornings were. After the first day of her job, she persuaded Hopper into giving her a little leeway when 3 o'clock rolled around. She would leave to get her siblings, drop them off at their house (something that made Billy even more pissed off), and come right back to the station.

Wednesday morning was particularly chilly and Billy was particularly pissed off for reasons he wouldn't disclose. Their drive to the high school was significantly louder, too, and Billy took every chance to jerk her around in her seat when they came to sharp turns. The tug into the parking lot was no different. He parked crooked and stopped abruptly, roughly throwing Rowen the keys before sliding out of the driver's seat and slamming the door shut.

Billy's grumbling was nothing new. Whether for this reason or that, his reactions were always within the same circle, and it made it easy for Rowen to separate them from other things. She almost always knew when Billy was grumpy, managing to save a clueless face a time or two.

Normally his grumbling would annoy her, make her call him out even though he always ignored what she said. But not today. Rowen kept her mouth shut this time. She knew exactly why he was pissed off, stalking towards the school at a quicker pace instead of letting his so-called friends catch up with him. She knew his reason for jerking her around, and she replayed it in her head

Unlike Tommy, Tina, Carol, or whoever followed her brother around at this school, Rowen knew when it was time to leave him alone. She knew when he didn't want to be messed with or asked questions and, unless Billy was secretly getting along with these people, she knew they didn't share her knowledge. It made her mentally prepare for what would come when she returned at 3 o'clock.

Much to her pleasure, Tommy H. chose to leave her alone and _not_ appear this morning. She threw a "see yah" Max's way when she finally decided to leave the warmth of the car and, when the door shut, Rowen cranked the engine. As the car roared to life once again, she began to rub her hands together, feeling the chill that crept onto her fingers disappear. Getting used to Hawkins' chilly weather proved to be harder than she hoped.

"Hey, Hargrove! Hold on!"

She caught his voice before she could roll her window up. Rowen shut her eyes with a sigh. "What are you doing here?"

She looked up to meet the face of Steve Harrington, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Going to school?"

The glare she gave him was unquestionable. Steve's smirk vanished, and he began to dig through his bag, pulling out a black notebook. He handed it to her. "This fell off Billy's car Friday."

Rowen stared at the cover littered with her handwriting. She took it from his grasp. "Oh, uh... thanks. I didn't even realize I lost it."

"Tina said she heard you're a regular Stephen King."

Rowen huffed. "Where did she hear that?"

"Your brother, probably. He's been telling everyone about you."

"So I've heard." Rowen turned her gaze away from him, tossing the notebook in the passenger seat.

Steve frowned. "Wait, is that like a complete lie or something?" he asked, catching her tone and suddenly standing straighter. "I mean, people spread rumors, but I didn't think it would be about something like that."

She ignored his questions, draping her elbow out the car window. "Listen, you really shouldn't be talking to me. I don't have time to talk, anyway."

"Why?" he asked. "Is Billy gonna 'pound me into the floor' just for giving you your journal back?"

She ignored the way he quoted her, too.

"This just isn't the best time, okay?"

"Every other time I saw you wasn't exactly the best time, either. This was the first I've been able to catch you without him."

Rowen narrowed her eyes at him.

"Not- not that I'm scared of him or anything," Steve stuttered, trying to play it off casually. "'Cause I'm not. I, uh... I just didn't want to deal with another poking session, you know? Better to avoid with him altogether with how pissed he looked."

She sighed, dropping her elbow back into the car. "Listen, Sunglasses. If I'm being honest, this has very little to do with my brother and more with the fact that I just don't wanna talk to you. I need to go to work and you've got school so why don't you just... go."

He stared down at her hand as she shooed him. "You know that's not actually my name, right?"

"I know. Now leave before Billy or one of his sidekicks catch you."

"Before Billy or one of his sidekicks catch me?" Steve echoed. "What, does he boss you around, too?"

Rowen shot a look towards him. "Excuse me?" she laughed.

Steve flinched at her tone. He seemed to regret saying what he said. "I just...I-I don't know," he said, licking his lips. "I didn't think you'd let him boss you around like everyone else. I mean you are older than him, aren't you?"

"What does my being older than him have to do with this?"

"Well... aren't you?" he pressed.

She gawked at him. "Okay, one: yes, I am older. I don't know why that's so important to you. And two: I don't let him boss me around. I _just_ told you that I didn't want to talk to you."

"So it has nothing to do with the fact that you told me to leave before he or someone else sees us?"

"No."

"Then why'd you say it?" Steve shrugged.

"Because I meant it when I said he would pound you into the floor," Rowen told him honestly. "If not on Halloween, then when he hears you tried talking to me again."

He scoffed. "C'mon. He's just pulling your leg."

"Why do you even care?" she snapped.

"I don't _._ It's just..."

She looked at him expectantly. "Just what?"

His face dropped into a blank expression. He shook his head. "Nothing," he muttered, a hand flinging up and falling back to his side with a _pat_. "Forget it."

"Can I go now?"

He nodded, walking off in the direction of the high school with a frown on his face.

Rowen paid no mind to it, rolling up the window before putting the Camaro in reverse, pulling out of the parking lot.

Little did she know that while she drove off, Tommy H. leaned against the hood of his own car, watching them go their separate ways.


	10. Play Basketball, Not My Sister

Billy Hargrove didn't do relationships; an obvious statement to anyone who knew him.

He didn't do the "exclusive one-on-one" thing that involved changing and molding your schedules to fit each other's lives, didn't do the planning, the continuous dating, being pinned to one person and one person only. It was a routine people fell victim to and, more importantly, it wasn't interesting. But aside from the obvious hormone-fueled jocks that trailed behind him, he seemed to be the only one who saw it like that.

The attention that the girls of Hawkins High gave him was undeniably fulfilling, but most of them failed to separate one from the other.

Not every guy was a Steve Harrington; giving you attention, flirting, then promising to love you for the rest of your days. Billy was the furthest if not the exact opposite of that type. He preferred a fling over a commitment any day, and never followed a girl around like a lost puppy.

 _Something the big-haired lover boy failed to avoid with Wheeler_ , he thought.

Besides, promising yourself to one person for who knows how long sounded tiring. He wasn't ashamed to show how it bored him. He didn't care for it, but his disinterest only seemed to make him more appealing, especially to girls like Tina and Carol. It was like they couldn't get a clue. Their conversations would always fall back on the repeated questions like _You wanna come over tonight?_ or _Why don't we just ditch and hang out again?_ Whether or not he felt like giving into it depended on the day, but it never changed the fact that Billy was tired of them.

And if he was being honest, keeping girls at arm's length was also tiring. Keeping everyone wrapped around his finger while making sure he didn't get himself in a situation he didn't want to be in was almost like a chore. _An easy chore_ , he thought, _but still a chore_.

It proved to be easy to handle, though. The kids in Hawkins were infatuated with anyone (or anything) new and were more than willing to give Billy their undivided attention. Stealing the spot of "Keg-King" from Harrington was one of the easiest things he had ever done since being dragged to Hawkins, and on top of that, he barely put in an effort to snatch it. After that, everything was practically handed to him on a silver platter.

So why did his new day-to-day feel like a chore? Because he was undeniably, agonizingly annoyed. The people in this school were easy to please. Easy to manipulate to do what he wanted. But _God_ were they nosey. Anyone who was anyone in this town was constantly walking on eggshells to keep their name from being spat on. One wrong move, one drunken mistake, and you were ruined for good. It was petty. It was typical . . . but it was also easy. The minute Billy stepped through those doors, he had no trouble keeping the girls under his arms and the guys following his lead. And no one ever made it hard, because no one dared to try. It was a victory for him.

Or at least until Rowen suddenly came into the picture.

Now, for unanticipated reasons, Billy was not only dealing with his own reputation but his sister's. And who did he have to thank for that? King Steve, of course. Catching the jock talking to her wasn't something he could let slide by and keeping Harrington in his place was a given, now that Billy was quickly taking his title as "King of Hawkins High". But, contrary to what he expected, the situation got under his skin; for reasons that made sense, but still... not what he expected. Seeing guys approach his sister was uncomfortable no matter where their relationship was at the time, but in that moment, Billy felt inarguably angry. And he didn't know what to do with it. At first, he felt like giving Harrington a good punch to the face just to see how funny it would look when he toppled over. But the look that he knew would appear on Rowen's face; it made him keep his fists at his sides. Besides, by the time he came up to them, people were already staring. It didn't need to become anything more than that.

Contrary to the frustration he felt bubbling up in his chest, he didn't feel like making a scene at the end of the day. So he didn't. A glare and warning was what he gave, and were usually all that was needed anyhow, but after the weekend passed and his boots trudged through the high school once more, he found Rowen's name was suddenly in everyone's mouths. Not only that, but he also came to find that he and Harrington were in a supposed rivalry. Initially, hearing the later made sense; he was the former King and Billy was the newcomer who snatched that glory away.

But to hear that his sister was now somehow in the mix? Because of _him_?

 _Bad_ _move Harrington._ The memory of it made him grumble under his breath. Billy failed to see why Hawkins High found him so interesting in the first place. He found the big-haired teen boring beyond belief. The guy displayed the stereotypical "jock with a heart" persona and dated a girl that was even _more_ boring.

Or well, _used_ _to date_ , anyway. Billy could spot the end of it coming from a mile away after the unintentionally public exchange between the couple on Halloween night. Hearing about their breakup the day after was nothing short of what he expected.

Taking his place was simple, therefore Billy figured Harrington wouldn't be much to deal with, but now Rowen was being dragged into things. Whether or not it was intentional didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that it happened, and it was all Harrington's fault that she was now being talked about throughout the school.

Needless to say, Billy was angrier than what was considered customary for him and while everyone else seemed to understand his reaction, he was still frustrated.

Rowen's social life was one thing. Usually, whoever she was friends with would end up hanging around him somehow, and whoever he was friends with would trail over to her. It went both ways, therefore they both had something of a care for who the other spent their time with. Relationships, however, were another story. Billy could care less what Rowen's love life entailed. He didn't want to know anything about it; just like she didn't want to know anything about his; as siblings, they had that mutual respect, or rather disgust and desire to avoid anything that involved hearing about what the other did. That was definitely an image that neither of them wanted to be etched into their subconscious.

But, even with this genuine disgust, like any brother who had a remotely good relationship with their sister... Billy got protective. He could still remember how he spent the near entirety of Tina's Halloween party clenching his fist at the sight of Tommy inching towards Rowen. He tensed at how the guy stood close to her, talking, laughing, _touching_. It made him sick. It made him want to storm up to the jock and throw a punch at his grinning, freckled face. He never did, though. Just like he never punched the guy who whistled at her like she was a tramp. Just like he never punched Harrington for coming up to her. He should've. But the thought of the fights he had in California, the thought of causing an outbreak which would ultimately lead to his dad's fury . . it made him hold back. Left him to snap at his big sister the same way he would snap at Max.

He didn't want it to happen that way. He didn't want to make her cower back into the passenger seat of his car; an action so opposite of who she was. But he didn't exactly have any other options, either.

The state that he caught her in when she came home Friday night only made it worse.

He was the last person she could fool when she was upset, nevermind keep family issues from. But when he made her show him her arm that night, giving him a clear view of the bruise forming just below her hand, he wished he'd never yanked her into his room. Seeing the green blotches around her wrist only made the anger he bottled up over the week begin to spill out. And the weekend? Well, that was spent letting it out in one of the only ways he could.

Monday was rather similar to the weekend, but now- two days later -he found that his pissy mood and the urge to give someone a much-deserved shove down the stairs had begun to fizzle away.

Until Tommy came up to him with what was probably the widest grin he'd ever seen.

"Guess who I caught trying to talk to your sister after you left." was all he needed to hear to send him right back to the frustration he'd gotten out of his system mere hours ago.

Harrington was lucky to have not been in his first period, or second period.. the entirety of the day until they trudged down to the gym for PE, really. The time the guys around him spent anticipating what would go down he spent replaying a memory he didn't have: imagining what Harrington could've said to Rowen. Tommy was too far away to hear either of them speak, but he'd caught enough. He told Billy that she looked upset; a little pissed off, even. _Thank God_ , were the words that came to mind when he heard this. Putting up with Harrington was enough to deal with alone, nevermind having his sister taking a liking to him.

That answered one question, but now he had to deal with the problem that was staring him in the face. For good.

The entirety of his time in the gym was spent taking out his newly risen frustrations out on the group he played against; which just so happened to include Harrington and his bigger-than-life head of hair. Basketball was as easy for Billy as it was for a kid to ride a bike once they grasped the concept. He never lost the skill he gained from weeks of games on the courts in California and was more than willing to show off. Harrington was left collapsing onto the gymnasium floor multiple times— courtesy of Billy —leaving the rest of their class to laugh at the former 'King' as the game went along.

If the California native was honest, he knew he didn't have to be angry to leave the brunette in the dust. But Harrington was still oblivious.

 _Won't be for much longer_.

Soon enough both senior and junior guys crowded into the locker room, some changing right back into their regular clothes despite being sweaty while the rest ran through the showers.

Tommy reached Harrington first, walking under the showerhead to the left of him.

"I never realized you took break-ups so hard, Harrington." he said, "That split with Wheeler's affecting your game."

He was ignored.

"Coach might bench you for good if you keep playing like that." Billy butt in, standing at Harrington's right.

He was also ignored, leaving the water from the showers as the only sound to fill their ears.

"One minute you're good and the next, you fall on your ass every other second 'cause she decided to run off with Jonathan."

Now Tommy had Harrington's attention.

"Can't really call it a coincidence anymore after five days," he smirked. "But hey, King Steve always gets back on his feet, right?"

Tommy took his leave with a grin stretched wide, one less showerhead running.

"What'd I tell you?" said Billy.

Steve scoffed, saying, "You gonna give me dating advice now too, Hargrove?"

"I don't give a shit about your crumbling relationship with Wheeler. I'm talking about my sister," he told him, "I told you to stay away from her."

"The hell are you talking about," Steve muttered. "I've been leaving her alone."

"Really? Because Tommy told me that he caught you coming up to my car this morning. He saw you talking to her, said she looked pissed." Billy reached over, turning off the showers they stood under. "You'd like to tell me why?"

Steve paused from scrubbing through his hair as the water stopped, shifting his gaze towards him. "Listen, she dropped a notebook in the parking lot on Friday. All I did was give it back."

Billy leaned his hand against the knob, unconvinced. "So you didn't say anything that could've pissed her off?"

"If anything it was probably you that pissed her off seeing as you boss her around so much." Steve snapped, jerking the water back on.

A laugh erupted from Billy's chest. "You've got a little fire in there today, don't you?" he chaffed. "Since you're so keen on being in the middle of our business, you should know I don't boss her around. She just knows when to stay out of things." He turned his gaze away, running his hands through his hair. "Besides, no one's ever tried to tell my sister what to do."

Bily rubbed at his nose before shutting his shower off again.

"So what's the point of this little interrogation of yours, huh? Are you gonna threaten me this time?"

"Course not," Billy smirked. "All I'm saying is.. you don't leave her alone," he reached for the towel behind him before throwing a glare towards the jock, "and it'll be more than your title that's damaged."

ii:

The telephone on her (and Flo's) desk rang for the fifth time in the past hour. Rowen plucked it up from its base, bringing the piece to her ear.

"Hawkins Police Department. This is Rowen."

Her eyes closed briefly once she heard the voice greet her on the other end. "Hi, Mrs. Byers." She greeted back in a cheery tone. _Again._

" _Has Hopper come in yet?_ "

"No, he still hasn't," she told her, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "Now that I think about it, he left in a rush so he never actually told me when he'll be back."

She could hear the older woman groan from her end. " _Ok, well if you could tell him to call me the minute he gets back I would really appreciate it_."

"I will. Don't worry." Rowen assured. "I said I would the last three times you called."

Another groan. " _You did, right._ _I'm sorry_."

Rowen smiled at her apology. "It's ok," said she, writing down a reminder for Hopper on a sticky note. "And if he _comes_ _back_ in a rush I'll sticky note it to his head. Then he definitely won't forget."

They both laughed.

" _What did you say your name was again?_ "

"It's Rowen."

" _Rowen_ _, ok. Well, thank you, Rowen_."

"Of course."

Once Mrs. Byers bid her goodbye, she hung up the phone. Rowen highly considered slapping the sticky note in front of her onto Hopper's forehead like she said she would. According to Powell, he was staying out of the office a lot more than usual, which to her wasn't strange . . but she _was_ curious as to what was suddenly grabbing at his attention all the time. It kept him from answering calls that the guys couldn't get to, leaving her with complaining adults on the other end of her telephone and complaints from her own mouth when he would finally show up.

And she'd only been working there for three days now.

For some reason, it felt a lot longer than that. Rowen found herself growing oddly comfortable working there, being there, being around the people there. She barely knew any of them and yet they were treating her like someone they've seen for years . . or at least someone they just _knew_. They made her feel like she had been at the police station for a long time.

Yet that was exactly why she felt _uncomfortable_ too. Uncomfortable because she didn't want to feel that way. She didn't want to grow comfortable with Hawkins, or even the idea of it, not when she and her brother made a promise. They told each other they would go back home together the second they could and that's exactly what she intended to do. Reminding Billy of it when she came home after "tutoring" was the one and only time she saw her brother look hopeful, dare she say in a better mood. She wanted to see that brighter expression on his face stay longer, and California was what would guarantee it.

So, as far as Rowen was concerned, she wasn't going to let herself get caught in whatever pull Hawkins had on its residents. She missed home too much to let it happen, anyway.

"How's the day been treatin' ya, Rowen?"

She looked up to see Powell trail over to his desk with a coffee cup in hand.

"Fine," she sighed through her nose, leaning her head into the palm of her hand. "Mrs. Byers called again."

He chuckled. "Joyce still callin' about Hopper, huh?"

"Mhm," she nodded, eventually drawing her brows together. "Why does she always insist that she speak with him?"

Powell hummed, plopping into his chair. "Well, I'd like to think it's because they go way back. They were," he shrugged, "high school sweethearts, to say the least."

Rowen smiled. "That would explain a lot."

"Mhm," his smile fell back into a line, "but I think it's cuz of that kid of hers."

"His name is Will, right?"

He nodded.

"My step-sister's friend told her about when he disappeared," she told him, folding her forearms on top of her desk. "The kids at their school call him 'Zombie Boy' because his family had a funeral for him and everything before they found him."

Powell nodded once more. "Yup."

"But he disappeared for a _week_. Why would you have a funeral so soon?"

"Well... we found another body in the quarry that looked a lot like the kid. Hopper figured out it wasn't Will after the fact but," he shook his head, "it freaked people out. For a moment we really thought he was dead."

Rowen's gaze dropped to the multitude of sticky notes. There was _another_ kid found dead. It wasn't Will, thankfully, but still, someone's kid was dead and it sent shivers down her spine. She'd heard of deaths reported through the radio, but never from people around her. It was never that close.

"Has anything like that ever happened before?"

"Nope. Last year was the first, an' hopefully the last."

Nodding idly, Rowen looked over to her notebook. Her hand rested on top of the black cover, grabbing at the edge. For a moment, she thought she had written something like that before. She was tempted to write it down... but she pulled her hand away. _There's no way I'm using a kid's traumatic past for a story idea_ , she thought.

Then her gaze trailed up to the clock.

" _Shit_ ," Rowen saw the long hand point to seven past three. "Shit. Shit. _Shit_. I gotta go." She practically leaped from her desk, taking the sticky note with her as she walked towards Powell's desk.

"If Hopper comes back before I do, give him this the second he gets in." She handed the green note to him. "The _second_." She pointed. "If he ignores you, slap it on his forehead and tell him I told you to do that because I told Mrs. Byers I would. I'll be back."

iii:

She didn't see Billy when she arrived at their usual spot, nor did she see Max. For a moment it made her think they might've lost track of time too, but the second she shut the driver's door of her brother's Camaro, he appeared.

Billy bit at the cigarette hanging from his mouth. "Thanks for showing up, finally."

Rowen threw a glare his way.

"I had to pretend like I wanted to hang around Tommy and Carol for a solid ten minutes just so I wouldn't look like an idiot."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." She clutched at her chest, faking pain. "I feel _so_ bad that you had to go through those ten long minutes of torture."

Billy rolled his eyes. "Where's the little shit?" he asked.

"How should I know? I just got here."

"Well if she's late too, then it's gonna be a hell of a ride back home," he grumbled. Rowen tossed him the keys, ready to open the passenger door until she heard the roll of a skateboard inch closer to them.

Max was just nearing the car after Billy slid into the driver's seat.

"You just narrowly missed the death sentence," said Rowen.

"What's he pissed about this time?" Max asked.

Rowen shook her head. "I don't even wanna know," she mumbled, letting Max climb into the back before sliding into her seat. The second she closed the door, Billy cranked the engine, speeding out of the parking lot. The tune of Foreigner's 'Juke Box Hero' encompassed them for a portion of the drive.

"Why was Harrington talking to you this morning?" Billy asked suddenly, a cloud of smoke escaped his mouth afterward.

Rowen rolled her eyes. She reached down, picking up one of two notebooks at her feet. "I left this on the back of the car on Friday," she told him plainly. "It fell off. He saw it... so he came to give it back."

Billy briefly lifted his hand from the steering wheel. "So it didn't cross his mind that he could give it to me instead of you?"

His question was rhetorical yet Rowen found herself answering anyway. "Guess not."

Billy scoffed. "I tell him to stay away from you and he does the opposite. Do people hear what you say backwards around here or something?"

"I'm pretty sure it's just 'cause it came from you."

"What?"

Rowen pressed her lips together, glancing over at him, faking sadness. "I hate to break it to you little brother, but you're kinda intimidating." Billy only hummed. "He didn't wanna keep my notebook but he didn't wanna give it back when you were there." Rowen shrugged, laughing under her breath. "Something about dealing with another one of your poking sessions."

Billy clenched his jaw, adjusting his grip on the wheel. "Was that all?"

"Yup."

"You sure?"

"Why are you so curious?" she asked defensively.

"Because Tommy saw him talking to you," Billy explained, taking a drag of the short cigarette between his fingers. "He said you looked pissed off when you left."

"Tommy saw me? Really?" she laughed, unconvinced. "He 'saw me'? Or do you have him watching me now?"

"I don't have him watching you," he argued incredulously.

Rowen scoffed, slouching back into her seat. "I can't believe you."

"Hey, I can't help it if he decides to hang around his car to see what's going on." Billy snapped. He rolled down his window, tossing the stub of his cigarette away.

"Still, the fact that your friend is watching me every time I show up at school? That's crossing a line, Billy."

"He's not my friend," he argued. "Just some asshole that thinks spying on his ex-friend will give him some kind of street cred." Billy paused, laughing under his breath. "Not like it'll do anything for him."

"Well can you tell him to stop?"

Billy sat silent for a moment.

"No," he said, "Actually, now that I think about it, it's nice to have someone else keep an eye on Harrington for me."

"Oh, so it's Harrington that he's keeping an eye on, hm?"

Billy 'mhm-ed' as they stopped by the curb in front of their house.

Rowen scoffed once more, sliding out of the passenger seat before Max climbed out. "Ok, sure," she said. Once the redhead was out, she slammed the passenger door closed. "Tommy will keep watching _Harrington_ for you and I'll just keep pretending like I don't notice."

She caught the keys he tossed as he walked around to the sidewalk, passing her. "Good," Billy muttered.

"You're an idiot if you think I'll let him get away with that."

Billy turned around. "I don't care what the hell you do," he said, throwing his hands up slightly. "Beat his ass if he crosses a line, but stay away from Harrington."

"You don't think I've been trying to already?"

"I mean it, Ro!" he called back. "The guy's just trying to find someone to rebound with after Wheeler dumped him."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Nancy Wheeler... she dumped him," Billy explained as he climbed up the porch. "She ran off with that Byers guy. You know, the one you were talking to on Halloween?... Harrington hasn't been taking it well."

Rowen threw her brother a confused look. "So, what, you think that's why he was trying to talk to me?"

"Yup."

She blinked, silent and watching as Max walked inside and Billy stayed on the porch, watching her.

She grabbed the car door, opening it. "I don't have to tutor Dustin tonight... I'll be back before dinner."

Billy nodded idly, walking inside.


	11. Second Best Employee

A _THUD_ and roar of a car engine left her to wake in a daze.

With the lack of her alarm clock ringing, she thought it was the weekend, no calendar on her wall to tell her otherwise. She felt an urge to bury her face into her pillow, pull the blanket over her head and mute out Billy's obnoxiously loud music which inched through the walls of their house.

_But wait... why is Billy blaring his music on a Saturday morning?_

She uncovered her head, blinking the sleep from her eyes, looking around the room. Max's bed was empty and the corner she left her skateboard in was bare.

_Shit. It's not Saturday._

Rowen cursed under her breath. The eighteen-year-old almost leaped from her bed, attempting to stay on her feet as she tried to free herself from the blanket that she was previously wrapped in. She kicked at it vigorously, eventually ripping it away from her foot. When she burst out of her room, sure enough, the faint sound of Billy's Camaro could be heard. Rowen ran through the house, making a b-line for the front door before yanking it open.

She just barely caught the familiar blue of his car before it disappeared far down the road, leaving her to slow her pace as she came closer to the curb. Her siblings were gone.

"Asshole!"

Rowen shouted her frustration to an empty street, ignoring the fact that Billy wouldn't hear her. She groaned, trudging back up the front steps of their house. The door slammed shut and her hair was raked through harshly. She was pacing, only becoming more annoyed when she remembered that there was no other way for her to get to the police station unless she was willing to walk a long distance. Her gaze trailed around the walls of the living room until it landed on a clock. _8:15._

She had to be there in fifteen minutes; no way would she make it in time. _Great_. The last few days had been a huge improvement; arriving early, managing to find her way there without a map, but of course, Billy decided to be impatient and leave without her, breaking that record she kept to herself.

The call she knew she had to make was something she was progressively dreading with every second that passed. It wasn't something she should've dreaded. It was silly, really. But despite her failure to grasp directions along with the many other things she seemingly failed to do, Rowen was very much a perfectionist. Her school attendance wasn't listed in that category, obviously, nor was the ability to understand winding roads that confused her in every which way, but when it mattered to her: she tried. She really did, and she didn't want to mess it up, even if the situation was a small bump that was realistically her brother's fault.

 _The guys would understand, though_. she told herself.

Powell and Callahan were the two she saw the most during her time there and they gave a plentiful amount of slack. If she was being more accurate, actually, they were pretty lazy, but they also did their best to make her feel good about what she was doing the same way Flo had done.

So, she picked up the phone, dialing the number to the station.

It rang once... then twice... then three times.

No answer.

Fourth ring... fifth ring...

"C'mon you lazy butts- _answer_ ," she mumbled.

Sixth ring.

" _Hawkins Police Department_."

"Callahan, hey. It's Rowen."

" _Hey Rowen_ ," His voice was muffled by food. " _Why 're you callin' the main phone?_ _Aren't you supposed to be working today_?"

Rowen shifted her weight back and forth on her feet. "Yeah," she breathed, "about that. You know how I always leave at three to pick up my siblings, then come back?"

She heard a 'mhm' on the other end.

"I don't have my own car, so my brother and I share his." she continued, beginning to rub her eyes. "but he decided to be a douchebag this morning and leave without me, so, I have no way of getting to the station."

" _Sheesh. I'm sorry about that_. _I would offer to come and get ya but me an' Powell gotta head out first thing_."

"You're fine. Don't worry about it."

" _I'll call Flo and let Chief know you can't come in today_."

"Ok," she sighed. "Thanks."

The line went dead. Rowen plopped their phone back onto its stand with a huff. Looks like she was stuck at the house.

It wasn't an entirely terrible turn of events if she was being honest; any time she could use to work on her stories was much appreciated. Right now, though, that didn't make her all too happy.

Ever since Halloween, everything she was writing was stuck at a roadblock; unfinished in some way. She didn't know how to fix it and it was beginning to grow irritating. Nothing was complete in her pile of journals. Stories were either given up on or put aside because she didn't know how to continue.

And right now, it was staring her in the face: a pile of black notebooks sitting in the corner of her room, collecting dust at the bottom; morphing into one big, ominous stack. The only journal that lied free of this intimidating pile was her Halloween story; the one Harrington gave back to her. She was so close to losing it last week, and yet the fear of that didn't even hit her. Of course, she had wondered where it went, but she felt passive over the possibility that it was gone. It wasn't her favorite story, nor was it her best in her opinion. She despised it to the point where she considered tossing it . . but she never did. When it first disappeared, Max thought she had, which led to an unnecessarily long conversation filled with Rowen's attempts to convince her she didn't.

To some extent, she was thankful that Harrington gave it back to her because it freed her of Max's questions. The redhead would've guilt-tripped her for days if it never showed up, she had no doubt about that. Rowen somewhat expected herself to throw it away the day before. But, when she got home and threw her bag to the side, it stayed there from that point til now. She no longer felt like she wanted to toss it . . which kind of pushed her to grab it.

After changing out of the shorts and baggy shirt she dubbed as her pajamas, she reached for the long strap of her very old, very worn shoulder bag and plucked the journal from the inside. It hung loosely from her hand as she walked back out into the hall, trailing to the kitchen. She made herself breakfast with what she could find, eventually settling for oatmeal. Her brother hated it but she would always make some for Max and herself on weekend mornings.

Within a few minutes, she was lazily eating from her bowl, reading through the pages and pages of scribbled handwriting.

_**CHAPTER 2, PG 9** _

_"You have to tell me what you saw, sweetheart." her mother pleaded. "We want to help you, Maddy, please. Tell me what you saw."_

_"I don't know," Maddy mumbled._

_Her mother sighed, glancing down at her hands. "Well, can you try to describe it?" she asked, giving her daughter a hopeful look. "What did it look like?"_

_Maddy stayed silent for a moment, but eventually, opened her mouth. "I'm not sure, I... everything happened too quickly," she said, her gaze glued to the chair in front of her. Her brows drew together. "I-I don't know, it was like a shadow... but it felt like it was there. Really, actually there in front of me," Maddy's bottom lip began to quiver. "It was coming for me." She whimpered._

_"Why was it coming for you?"_

_Images of the night before flashed through her mind, keeping her silent. Maddy struggled to answer, turning her gaze up to her mother. She shook her head. "I don't know," she cried, letting her head lean onto her mother's chest. "It just kept coming closer and I didn't know what to do. I felt frozen."_

Rowen stopped there, resting her finger just under the last sentence. _Frozen_. She almost felt that way when she heard a shriek come from Dustin's room. The way her skin crawled that night was eerily similar to what she described in this chapter; almost as if she was writing her own thoughts. Only . . whatever the sound came from didn't come for her. In fact, _she_ was about to come for _it_. She wondered what she would've seen if Dustin hadn't shown up . . if she had pried open the door that kept her shielded from whatever it was she heard.

She set her bowl down, resting her elbow on the counter as she leaned her chin in the palm of her hand. Her finger trailed under the sentence once more as the paragraph was read over and over again until she could analyze it no further. That was where the story stopped entirely, leaving a blank page on the other side. She hadn't been sure where to go from there. The conversation between mom and daughter could continue, but ultimately, Rowen knew her character had to make a decision. Weirdly, she remembered that Dustin's story for school was going in a similar direction. She remembered what he told her as well.

Something small that made strange noises _... strange noises_. She wondered.

ii:

HONK!

Rowen looked up towards the entrance which led into their living room, closing her notebook in the process.

HONK!

It came again. She moved away from the kitchen counter, passing through the house until she came to the front door, jerking it open.

Her eyes narrowed. "Hopper?"

There, right at the curb of the street, sat the Chief's tan and white SUV; the obnoxious engine humming loud enough for her to hear where she stood. Hopper sat inside with the window rolled down, leaning his arm against the edge. He smiled. "Hey, California."

She huffed at the nickname before furrowing her brow. "What're you doing here?"

"I'm here to pick you up," he stated. "Callahan caught me on the radio 'bout ten minutes ago."

She looked at him quizzically, taking a step back inside to find the clock.

9:23.

She rolled her eyes, realizing she'd been mindlessly staring down at her notebook for over an hour.

"You comin'?" he called out, making her look back towards the car.

"Oh- yeah, one second."

Rowen temporarily retreated back into the house, quickly searching for her bag, then snatching the journal she sat on the kitchen counter. Once her jacket was on, she grabbed her key and locked the front door, making her way down the walkway.

Hopper reached across the seat to get the passenger door, pushing it open before she could grab at the handle.

"You didn't have to do this, you know."

He gave her an overly shocked expression as she pulled the door shut. "And leave my best employee to sit at home? No way."

Eyeing his terrible attempt to look convincing, she said, "I've been working at the station for three days."

He chuckled. "That should give you your answer, then."

"So you're saying I'm better than Flo?"

His mouth opened, then closed. Then, "Ok, my _second_ best employee," he admitted, pulling away from the curb.

They cruised down the street in somewhat comfortable silence for a few minutes. Once they reached the end of the neighborhood, Hopper reached towards the radio. He let a low hum of music break the quiet, glancing in Rowen's direction as he did.

Once he turned his head her way though, he immediately wished he hadn't. The bruise on her left wrist was still there, peeking out from under her jacket sleeve in a shade of green shifting to purple. It was sheer, small, but it was still _there_ , and it reminded him of the thoughts that swirled threw his head that night; that possibility that made him offer her a job in the first place. His gaze lingered on it again before he pressed his foot against the break, draping his hand over the steering wheel as they came to a halt at the now red light.

"Does it still hurt?"

She said nothing, and he glanced over to where she sat. She looked caught off guard, tugging at her shirt sleeve to cover her wrist.

Silence sat between them until she sighed through her nose, saying, "Not much. I should've watched where I placed my hand, though. My stepsister slammed the car door on me when I went to grab my bag. I wasn't even paying attention." She breathed out a laugh. "I'm just clumsy, I guess."

His gaze kept on the road. "Clumsy, huh?"

No response came.

Then the light turned green, and they drove in another short silence.

"Listen," he began, shifting in his seat. "I don't wanna pry into your personal life. That's the last thing I wanna do, really," he told her, spinning the steering wheel to turn left, "But I know you can't get a bruise that wraps all the way around your wrist by slamming a car door on it."

She mentally cursed, beginning to fiddle with her sleeve again.

"I know you don't know me that well. Hell, we've only known each other for a couple of days but..." he paused, pressing his lips together, "if anything like that happens again, I want you to know you can call me, alright?"

Nothing but the grumbles of the car engine filled their ears.

Hopper glimpsed towards her once more, noting how her eyes fell onto her wrist and her back pressed firmly against the seat. He looked back towards the road. "You don't trust me."

"No! No, it's not that, it's just..." she trailed off, mouth opening, then closing, "when my brother turns eighteen, we plan on leaving as soon as possible."

His interest peeked. "Where're you gonna go?"

"Back home."

"California?"

"Mhm."

His brows drew together. "So what's the problem?"

"Well, it's not you if that's what you were worrying about," she told him, earning a smile. "I don't know, I just... don't wanna make friends when I'm not gonna be here for very long."

"Isn't your brother that kid with the Camaro?" he asked. _Geez, even Hopper knows who he is_.

Rowen nodded.

"He's definitely making friends."

She huffed. "He's not friends with any of them, believe me."

He chuckled. "What, does he have some kind of 'better than thou' personality?"

"Pretty much," she told him, "He doesn't get attached to people either."

Hopper sat in thought for a moment.

"But you think you might."

She said nothing, leaning her head in her hand.

Then, "I get it."

"What?"

Hopper shrugged. "Leaving friends is hard. I get why you wouldn't want to make any when you don't plan to be here for long."

"That makes me sound like an ass, doesn't it?"

He chuckled. "No. Making friends is what makes leaving difficult. If it wasn't, then what's the point of those sad scenes where a character moves away at the end of a movie?"

Silence.

"Even if I'm not your friend, you can still call me, ok?"

Rowen's head found its way back to her seat. Then, "I didn't expect my boss to care about my well being."

He lifted his hand off the steering wheel. "Well, I'm Chief of Police too. Lookin' out for all you kids around here is kind of my job."

"Really?" she mused.

He hesitated, mouth falling open as he took a right turn. "Nah, not really," he admitted, earning a laugh from her. "But recently I've felt like I should."

"Why just recently?"

Pulling into the station parking lot, he parked the SUV, adjusted his hat and sighed, "No one's ever the same person they used to be, right?"

iii:

Max didn't like abandoning her stepsister.

Hell, she didn't like anything that left her alone with her _stepbrother_ , even if it was just their usual ride to school. That morning, she wanted to argue about leaving without her, make Billy wait or at least distract him long enough for Rowen to wake up. But she didn't. He was already mad enough as it is and, for once, she knew exactly why. She heard every bit of 'why' across the hall the night before until a door slam signaled the end of it.

Rowen got home late, and the fact that Billy wouldn't come out of his room made her anxious. She barely slept; that much was clear when Max woke up before she did. The redhead didn't want to wake her, even if riding alone with Billy wasn't something she wanted to do. So, she set that inconvenience aside, taking the note on the fridge with the police station's phone number on it and stuffing it in her bookbag.

Choosing to go without Rowen wasn't a spontaneous decision. Billy made it very clear that if she wasn't ready when he was that he'd leave her to find another way to get to wherever she needed to go. That was before she got a job, but even after the fact, he never moved to change that 'rule' of his. So, just in case, Rowen wrote down the number to the station. If the time ever came, she told Max to call when they got home.

It wasn't exactly necessary, but if she ever found another way to get to work, then she wanted to know that her stepsister got home. If she didn't, well, then she would come pick the thirteen-year-old up. Max wondered if she would show up in a police car, maybe decked out in gear or something that made her look cool.

She shook her head at the thought, though. Rowen answered phones, that was it.

And she wouldn't have the chance to pick her up anyhow. Max intended to get out on time. It turned into a challenge over the past few days; a way to prove to Billy she could do something right, or at least keep him from scoffing in her direction for once. Saying she annoyed him was an understatement. She wasn't really sure why she annoyed him so. Whether it was her constant attitude towards him or getting to the car late after school. Nevertheless, anything and everything she did: it annoyed him. She was sure that even her breathing made him roll his eyes.

It wasn't a completely one-sided thing, though. Max would immediately agree that the feeling was mutual if she ever got the chance to say so.

It was no mystery that he would yell at her often, throw insults at her, blame her for things whether they were her fault or not. But he wouldn't do it when Rowen was there. When Rowen was there he'd leave her alone, because unlike him, the older Hargrove got along with their new sibling.

Rowen was the only thing Max liked about her mom's marriage. She didn't like Neil. She _definitely_ didn't like Billy. But Rowen was nice, or at least tried to be. She had her moments when she mirrored Billy more than anyone. They were siblings. She had a temper just like he did. But she was still _nice_. If her brother and her dad where even the smallest bit, Max didn't see it. Susan tried to, other people didn't care, and if Rowen knew something they didn't, she never said. Which was why Max was thankful it was her that Dustin met, not Billy.

Max knew her stepdad was the greater of two evils, though. It wasn't hard to figure that out. Countless nights of sneaking into Rowen's room when Neil would have one of his outbursts, or times when he was just blatantly angry and took it out on his equally angry son. She rarely saw it but she _always_ heard it, and it made her grateful that she shared a room with her stepsister now. Because not only did it make her question why her mom thought divorcing _her_ dad for _this guy_ was the best idea, or make her scared, but it proved to be more than enough to make her realize just what she walked into; what kind of family she had now. This was her family. She had to live around it, live with it, tuck it away from other people.

There were parts of it that made her anxious and smaller parts that made her happy, but right now she was just _angry_. Angry like her stepsiblings. She was angry _for_ them, angry _at_ them, angry at the town they were stuck in, angry at the stepdad that dragged them there. And right now, that was all directed on Billy and the fact that he said she'd have to skate home; a statement that debunked her goal to prove him wrong. She knew she could try and beat him to his car after school- and in all honesty, she really wanted to try -but home wasn't where he planned on going.

Max was stuck... or at least until she saw a payphone on the other side of the school ground.

Her half-eaten peanut butter sandwich was dropped back into the paper bag it came from before her eyes began to scan the yard for one of the guys. She saw Mike first. Her face scrunched up. _No, not him_ , she thought. Mike didn't exactly like her so asking him for money probably wasn't a great idea. Will was right beside him, but he also wasn't the best choice. He was really quiet; shy. They barely said two words to each other— mainly because she never tried to —but still.

Her options were lessening, down to Stalker and Dustin. Lucas was nowhere to be seen, oddly, so Dustin it would be.

"Hey, Dustin," she called out, catching his attention. "Do you have a quarter? I need to call my stepsister."

His grin flattered as she approached the trio. "Uhh," he dug through his pockets, "Nope. Guys, you got any quarters?"

They began to search through their own pockets. Mike came up with nothing. Will was the same after digging through his jacket.

Then, "Wait-" he bent down to his backpack, unzipping the front pocket. Soon enough a quarter was handed to her. "Here."

"Thanks."

She threw a small smile his way before running back to her backpack, pulling out the yellow note with Rowen's handwriting in the middle. Once Max reached the payphone she slid the quarter in and dialed the number in her hand.

" _Hawkins Police Department_."

"Hey, it's Max."

" _Hey_."

Max paused, staring at the payphone in confusion. Rowen's tone sounded sour. "Are you ok?"

" _Yeah_ ,"

"You don't sound fine-"

" _Max, I'm fine, seriously. I'm just tired_."

Max shut her mouth. She shifted from one foot to the other, fiddling with the hem of her jacket. "Sorry about this morning."

" _It's not a big deal_."

"Yeah, but I could've got him to wait longer... distract him or something."

" _Could you?_ " She didn't believe her.

Max didn't believe her own words either. "No. He was already starting to yell when I went to get my board," she admitted, shaking her head. "Wait, how'd you even get to the station?"

" _Hopper picked me up._ "

"Hopper?"

" _Yeah_ , _he's the_ _Chief of police_."

"Wait, really?" Max was suddenly gleaming. "Did he show up in a cool police car or something?"

" _Max-_ "

"Where the sirens going?"

" _Max!_ "

Rowen's impatient tone snapped her out of it. "What?"

" _I have to work. Why'd you call me?_ "

"Right, sorry," she apologized. "Billy's leaving me here to go out with some girl after school so I wanted to ask if you could pick me up later."

A muffled grumble came from the other end. " _I can try to, yeah, but I couldn't take you home. I'd have to go get you and come right back, so you'd be hanging out with me until I'm done working_."

"It's better than being stuck at home."

" _Ok. I'll come when I can_."

"Ok, see ya."

The phone was hung back in its place and Max was soon walking back to where the guys still stood; Lucas still nowhere to be seen.

"Didn't you tell us AV club at lunch?" Her question was directed towards Dustin.

"Yup."

"Then where's Lucas?"

He grumbled. "Who the hell knows."

"We should just go ahead and go inside," Mike spoke up. "Lucas can meet us there."

"But all of us need to be here. This is _super_ important."

"Dustin, we've been doing AV club for how long now? If he shows up, he'll know where to find us." Mike paused, slinging his backpack across his shoulder. "It's no big deal, c'mon."

They began to walk back towards the school. Dustin, however, didn't move.

"Dustin, c'mon. Lunch is almost over." Will tried to sway him. "We gotta go."

With a groan, Dustin eventually gave in, trudging behind his friends as they climbed the stairs. Their feet echoed down the halls like a small stampede, being some of the few if not the only kids who were inside at the moment. It carried on as the sole sound as they twisted and turned around corners and past classrooms until they came to a closed door; one familiar to all but Max.

Once it clicked open, they all began to pile into the room.

Until, "Guys!"

Lucas' voice startled them back into the hall, all eyes on him as he suddenly appeared.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up!" Dustin placed his hands on his hips. "You know how much valuable time we wasted waiting on you?"

"Valuable time?" Lucas looked at him in disbelief. "What's so important that you call _lunch_ valuable time?"

"Guys c'mon, we don't have time to argue just go." Mike ushered the two inside with the rest right behind, shutting the door once everyone circled around the table. His attention fell back to Dustin. "Now, what did you want to show us?"

Dustin grinned, placing his backpack on the floor before pulling out a piece of his Halloween costume. The 'trap' that he carried with him during trick-or-treating was placed onto the table. Then he opened it.

Never in her life had Max seen anything like what they were now staring down at.

"His name is Dartanian."

"Where did you find him?" she asked, watching as he picked the tiny creature up in his hand.

"He was in my trash, foraging for food." Dustin's gaze trailed up to her. "You wanna hold him?"

Max's eyes widened. "No-"

Too late.

"He doesn't bite don't worry."

"No no no, I don't wanna hold him." but Dustin was already handing him over to her.

Max cringed at the feeling of the creature in her hands. "Oh God, he's slimy!" And now she was passing it over to Lucas.

"Ew- he's like a living booger!"

Then Will was holding him, then Mike. Only Mike didn't cringe once Dartanian was in his hands. He held him up. "What is he?"

"My question exactly." Dustin grinned.

He immediately pulled out a set of books, explaining the process he went through trying to discover what Dartanion, or now 'Dart', was. The little guy was neither a pollywog nor reptile, so what could he've possibly been? To put it simply: Dustin found a new species. A weird, noisy, slimy little species. It looked harmless, but if there was one thing Max knew for sure, she wouldn't be holding it again. There's a difference between being scared of something and being grossed out by it; she was the later.

Lucas led the group out as they left the room, back into the now crowded halls. "We've gotta show it to Mr. Clark."

"No way!" Dustin argued. "He'll steal my discovery."

"He's not gonna steal your discovery."

Mike's comment was ignored.

"Ya know, I'm thinking about calling it Dustonious Pollywogus." He turned to look at Max. "What d'you think?"

She smiled. "I think you're an idiot."

"We'll meet in Mr. Clark's class after school to show him, ok?"

Dustin grumbled. "Fine. But if he even _hints_ at the idea of stealing _my_ discovery-"

"He's not gonna steal it!"

Max, Will, and Lucas were left in a fit of laughter, amused by the two annoyed faces. Nevertheless, they all agreed to Mike's plan. _Three o'clock_.


	12. Pinky Promise

Voice after complaining voice was what the entire afternoon beheld. Whether it was someone calling (and complaining) about a missing bike or reporting a rat infestation, Callahan and Powell asking her where they needed to go, or Hopper moaning and groaning about the coffee being all gone, she was there for it all. Their normally slow afternoon turned on its head, upside down and crazy, into a near madhouse, and her patience was wearing thin.

Flo told her it was normal. A rush of calls- whether big or small -would usually come in after school or early in the morning. This time though, almost all of them were complaints, and because the guys knew almost everyone in this town, they weren't dealt with happily, rather like arguments between grumpy neighbors. There weren't many policemen in Hawkins to begin with, which was why Hopper dealt with a lot of it himself, but Rowen had to deal with listening, biting back her tongue, writing down a report no matter how rude the person was or how crazy it might've been. To put it simply, _nothing_ was dealt with happily and over the course of the day, her once 'ok' mood began to tumble downhill until she was left begging for a break. Her mind was screaming at her.

But the calls kept on coming and now she was trying to get out the door so Max wouldn't be left at school.

"No," Hopper shook his head. "The phone is ringing off the hook. I need you here right now."

"Hopper, c'mon. I won't be gone for that long,"

"I can't let you take a police car by yourself. You're not a cop," he pressed, the pair of them walking quickly, impatiently. Rowen reached the coat rack first, turning to face him.

"I'll go get my stepsister and come right back. I'll be gone for-..." her hands waved around, "ten minutes at the most."

He gave her a look, unconvinced by the time estimate.

Impatient, she returned his look in equal measure, continuing, "I'm not letting her skate down the road alone for half an hour. She doesn't even have a key to get into the house!"

Silence.

" _Please,_ " she begged.

More silence.

Powell and Callahan came in, the later disappearing to the back room while the former plopped behind his desk.

Then, Hopper sighed. "You know what..." He swiped his coat from the rack, rummaging through his pocket until he pulled out a set of keys, tossing them to her. "Take my car."

She caught the keys, twirling the metal around in her hand.

"I'll take the cop car," he added.

"Isn't your SUV a police car too?"

" _Technically_. It isn't an actual police car. You can drive it without people looking at you like you're insane."

She huffed. "I think you're being a little overdramatic."

His chin tilted down. "I dunno how things worked in California, but around here, an eighteen-year-old driving a police car isn't normal."

A ring from her desk interrupted whatever quip that was beginning to cross her mind. She left Hopper to look for his hat, moving to answer the jittering phone. "Hawkins Police Department."

" _What the hell did you do to my car?!_ " Billy's voice screeched into her ear.

She flinched. " _Ow_! Eardrums!"

" _I don't give a shit about your_ _hearing._ _What did you do to my car?!_ " he hissed.

"What're you talking about?"

" _It overheated in the middle of the goddamn road._ "

"Billy, I don't have time to talk right now-"

But he kept going. " _I had to pull over to the side and now it won't even start. What the hell do you do to it last night?_ "

"I didn't do anything to your stupid car!" she snapped. Of all the times, she had to deal with his pissy attitude now.

" _Well, you were the last person who had it before me, so either I have a ghost or you did something to mess it up_."

"Ha ha..." she mock-laughed. "It was fine when I was driving it. I didn't do anything to it."

" _Then explain to me why I'm stuck at a payphone with a broken-down car and a pissed off date_."

"You probably did something to it this morning. You know? When you _left me at home_ ," she spat.

She could hear him scoff. " _Don't give me that shit_."

"Uh, no. I think I will," she retorted. "Why the hell are you calling here anyway? Call for a tow truck or something."

" _I already did. It's gonna take them forever to get here. Get one of your police buddies to help us out._ "

'My police buddies?' she mouthed, an incredulous look across her face.

" _Ro!_ "

"I'm not getting 'one of my police buddies' to help you out."

" _You will if you don't wanna get ratted out_." he threatened.

"Huh, really?" she stood straight, challenging, "Ok then. If you rat me out then _I_ will tell our dad how you left Max at school so you could go on a date."

The line went silent for a moment.

" _No, you won't_."

"Yeah, I won't. And you won't either because we both know what would happen."

He said nothing.

She groaned. "Look, I don't care who the hell you have with you right now. I'm not going out of my way to help you just so your ego's saved. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pick up the stepsister you abandoned."

The phone was hung up with a slam before she could fall victim to more of his angry rambling.

Hopper never left his place near the coat rack. "Was that the 'better than thou' brother?" he asked, securing the fedora hat onto his head.

She gave him a look as if saying 'no shit', sighing loudly, "And now I gotta go get my 'sassier than thou' stepsister."

His brow raised, watching as she began to head for the front door.

"Woah, woah, woah, hold up." Hopper pointed to the pile of police coats once she turned around. "Take a coat. You're gonna freeze out there with that jacket of yours."

"I'll be fine," she shrugged.

"You were shaking when you got into my car this morning. I'd say otherwise." He waved her over.

Rowen grumbled, trudging over to the sea of coats as he left them. She didn't exactly want to take someone else's coat, knowing it would either one: smell, or two: piss the owner off if they discovered it was gone. Personally, she was concerned about the smell, but she was also on a timetable, too. So, she sucked it up, the dreading of weird smells cast aside.

She settled on a coat with a familiar name across the front, only finding out that the sleeves were too long when she shrugged it on (as was the entire coat, really). She unbuttoned the ends, rolling them up.

"Callahan, I'm taking your coat!" she yelled to the back room.

Her hands were stuffed into the pockets as she headed for the front door. She stepped out quickly, yanking open the door to Hopper's SUV as she climbed in, slamming it shut harder than intended. The keys were jammed into the ignition before she could think twice about it. She buckled her seatbelt, ready to pull out of the lot. But then the radio blared, and she jumped. Rowen was welcomed by the lyrics 'you don't mess around with Jim'; something that would have normally made her laugh but was only annoying her now.

Her gaze trailed to the watch on her wrist. 3:15. Shit. She was already late and it made her foot pressed down on the gas, propelling the car fast down the streets.

Kids were still walking along the side of the road towards their homes, which made her mentally relax, knowing Max wouldn't be the only one there, but the strain she felt center onto her temples still came out on top. She wasn't sure if it was because of the people she spoke to and the complaints that she had to deal with, Billy's unwanted outburst over the phone, if it was because she was technically speeding in a police car, or if it was all of those options rolled into one.

But if one thing was for sure, it was that she wished she wasn't having this day.

People were either yelling at her or yelling near her all day and she wanted to be done; left to lock herself in her room for a couple of days, maybe. A little dramatic of her, sure, but she didn't care.

When the middle school came into view she parked the SUV with a jolt, climbing out hurriedly, stuffing the keys in one pocket and her still slightly-bruised wrist in the other. The parking lot was nearly free of cars when she got there, the same way the area around the back entrance was free of kids. Rowen shut the door of Hopper's SUV before leaning against the side, placing her hand on her forehead. She felt a headache creeping up.

She pushed her feet forward, a groan escaped her lips, the pounding now in her head very much unwanted. She forced herself along anyway, moving at a pace that had been a little too fast for what- or who -she almost ran into, making her nearly fall on the concrete once a head of dark curls came into her peripheral vision.

She gasped, as did the girl in front of her, both stumbling back in opposite directions.

A girl about Max's age stood still with her mouth hung open, staring at Rowen with wide eyes, almost like she got caught in an act. Rowen almost thought her face was frozen in that expression up until her attention trailed over to the SUV next to them.

Rowen followed her gaze before trailing her own back to her. "You ok?"

The girl's gaze jerked back to her. She looked lost, dazed, even, nodding vigorously.

"Are you waiting for your parents?"

She didn't know what to ask besides what any normal adult would. The girl was at school, alone, wide-eyed, and didn't talk (so far), which made her go straight to the most likely reason. But a shake of the head debunked that thought. Rowen felt out of place, weirdly worried despite her rush to find Max and leave. Never in her life had she met a thirteen-year-old- or at least a girl she assumed was thirteen -who was so quiet and _not_ waiting for someone to pick her up. She _was_ at a school.

The silence between them left the girl to look over to the SUV once again. "Hopper's truck."

Rowen's brow raised. "Uh, yeah. It is... Do you know him?"

"Where is he?"

She stared at the younger girl for a moment, wondering, but still answering, "He's at the Merril farm, I think. He's working."

The girl's gaze trailed back over to her, mouth opening. "Do you... know him?" She was hesitant.

"Yeah, I work for him."

"Don't tell him I was here." The cautious expression on her face suddenly shifted into a pleading one.

"Why not?"

"He'll... he'll be mad."

Rowen stayed silent, the wheels turning in her head. Hopper never mentioned having a daughter... Maybe she's his niece? Friend's daughter? It had to be one of those things...

"Are you guys family?" Rowen tried.

"He..." The girl paused, brows knitting together as she thought. "...looks after me."

Rowen began to understand. "Is that why you don't want me to tell him?"

The girl nodded, looking down at her shoes; shoes which seemed more than just a little too big. Rowen fiddled with the keys which now sat in her hands, pressing her lips in a thin line. That feeling of worry panged in her stomach again even though the girl looked fine. She wasn't breathing heavily, she didn't have any bruises or cuts. She was nervous, but only that nervousness that Rowen recognized and used to feel herself.

There was still a lot she didn't know, and honestly wondered if she should know... But the girl looked alright. She was in one piece... and Hawkins wasn't dangerous, right?

"How about this... I'll promise not to tell him if you pinky promise me that you'll get home safe."

The girl's brows drew together. "Pinky promise?"

"You don't know what a pinky promise is?"

She shook her head.

What thirteen-year-old didn't know what a pinky promise was? Rowen tangled with her words. "It's like.." She bit her bottom lip. "It's like a _really_ important promise. You wrap your pinkies around each other and swear you'll never tell whatever it is you promise not to. Like a pact."

"A pact?"

"Yeah, like an agreement."

"Like... friends don't lie?"

A small smile crept onto Rowen's face. "Yeah," she nodded, holding her pinky up. "Now, will you pinky promise me?"

The girl stared down at her hand, hesitating.

"I won't bite, I promise," Rowen assured her.

A hint of a smile came across the girl's lips. She nodded, walking forward slowly, and smaller pinky wrapped around Rowens. "Pinky promise."

"My lips are sealed, then," Rowen stepped aside.

A small smile twitched onto the girl's lips, and she did move eventually, clunking away in the boots that just barely stayed on her feet. But when she came to the road, she stopped to turn back around, raising her hand to give a small wave as she neared the road; one which Rowen returned.

"And hey!" She caught the girl's attention. "Watch out for cars, okay?"

The girl nodded, and Rowen turned away with a sigh. She hoped that she hadn't just made a terrible decision.

At the moment, there was no one there but them. She expected a couple of high schoolers to show up eventually, given a handful of cars were still sprawled out behind her. But there was no one near the middle school. If anyone else was inside, there was no sign of it. Rowen didn't want to jump to conclusions and think that Max was sitting somewhere in the school all alone. For one, that was the least Max thing to do... but after she turned her gaze away from the girl who she just introduced the concept of pinky-promising too, she couldn't help but recognize an abrupt chill crept up her back.

It made her turn around, wanting to confirm that the girl was still walking away; that someone creeper didn't show up and kidnap her or anything.

Huh... The girl was gone.

Rowen knew that the thought which immediately popped into her head was more impossible than possible. She tended to overthink things when her surroundings got too quiet, nevermind when she ran into a kid that was there one minute and gone the next. Still... she _really_ hoped that a super sneaky kidnapper didn't show up while she had her back turned. She surveyed the woods that lied to the left of the school, looking for a head of dark curls and oversized wool coat. But she saw nothing... nothing but the high school building, a scarce number of cars, and dead foliage among trees that were beginning to lose their leaves.

"WILL!"

A yell broke her out of her confusion. _Dustin?_

"Will!"

She heard another yell, this time recognizing her stepsister's voice.

"Max!" she called back, walking towards the school. One of the double doors were yanked open once she reached the blue exterior, coming into a white-walled entryway. She began to walk down one of the halls, listening for footsteps or another voice to shout out.

"Max!" she called out again.

Nothing. Her eyes rolled dramatically.

She didn't have time for this.

"MAX!" she tried again, louder.

Footsteps suddenly trudged down one of the halls, revealing both her stepsister and Dustin.

"Rowen?"

She looked between the two. "What's going on? I heard you guys yelling from outside."

"We're looking for my friend," Dustin told her.

"Yeah, I could hear that, but why were you shouting?"

"Well, see, I brought my-..." he paused, hesitating. " _pet_ , to school. I let him out so they could see him but _Mike_ didn't like it and scared him off."

"Your pet?" If he meant Mews, she had some questions.

Max and Dustin shared a look. "My lizard," Dustin explained. "Ya know, the one you heard at my house?"

 _The one that makes the weird noises._ "Yeah, I remember," Rowen shook her head impatiently. "What does this have to do with Will?"

"Will radioed us and said he found him in the bathroom, so we went to meet him there," Max intervened, "but when we got there, he was gone. Now we can't find either of them."

"You can help us find him, c'mon." Dustin waved her along, going back the way he came.

She looked over to Max, but the redhead just followed his lead.

"Hey- guys!"

Nothing.

Rowen groaned, following the two thirteen-year-olds.

"Max, we don't have time for this! I need to get back to the station."

"It'll only take a few minutes!"

"How do you know that?"

"Because we've already walked around half the school and Mike and Lucas looked through the other half," Dustin answered for her, turning the corner and shouting again, "Will!"

"Where could he've possibly gone if he isn't in the school?"

"Wouldn't we all like to know." Dustin flung his hands up in exasperation. "WILL!"

They looked in every classroom they passed, every bathroom, every side room, but still, Will was nowhere to be found. According to Dustin, he could be pretty much anywhere on the grounds. He could be right under their noses for all they knew, hiding somewhere. He filled her in as they went. Turns out, this Will was the same Will Byers that disappeared. He was the son of Joyce Byers, the woman who called the station continuously, and the kid brother of one Jonathan Byers, the same guy she met on Halloween.

 _Jesus, this really is one of those everyone-knows-everyone_ _towns,_ she thought.

With everything Will had dealt with and was still dealing with, he would often wander off. Sometimes far away from where he was originally. That didn't help with their situation, nor did it help with Rowen's impatience.

"Dustin!"

An older woman appeared as they rounded another corner.

"Mrs. Byers?"

"What's going on? Where's Will?"

Dustin shrugged. "We don't know. We're still trying to find him."

The worried look across her face only intensified. "I saw Hopper's car outside. Is he here too?"

"Uh, no. I drove it here." Rowen answered, bringing the woman's attention onto her. "He let me borrow it so I could pick up my stepsister."

Joyce's worry momentarily relaxed, twisting into curiosity. "Oh," she held up a finger. "Are you Rowen?"

"Yeah," Rowen nodded.

Then a door suddenly creaked open. Another boy came barreling inside, walkie talkie in hand. "The field!" was all he said before heading back in the direction he came. All four of them immediately followed; three worried and one wondering why she was still there. Rowen ran with them nevertheless, all the way out into the field until they came up to two other boys.

"I just found him like this!" one said. "I think he's having another episode!"

The boy who spoke had his hand on the other, and the other, well, he stood still; eyes closed and body unmoving like a statue. She assumed that was was Will.

Joyce pushed past them, grabbing at her son's shoulders. "Will!"

No response.

She shook his shoulders, continuing to say his name. "Sweetie wake up! It's mom!" She cried. But his eyes stayed shut, moving rapidly. He wouldn't wake. The only response they received was the flutter of his eyelids.

Rowen stared at Will and his mother, slightly bewildered but slightly more worried, and growing more so as every second passed. _Did he always have episodes like this?_

"Will, wake up! Can you hear me?" Joyce didn't know what else to do. None of them did.

"Will, please wake up!" She pleaded. "Wake up! It's mom!"

Still, nothing. But Joyce kept trying, saying his name, telling him she was there.

"It's me!"

Everyone held their breath, watching as she begged, pleaded for him to wake up; snap out of it. Nothing happened. No one moved.

Until Will suddenly jolted.

Rowen forgot about the watch on her wrist, gasping as if she had been holding her breath, much like Max and the boys around them.

Will took in a deep breath, eyes flashing open as if he'd awoken from a nightmare. "Will!" His mother let out a sigh of relief, pulling him into a hug before stepping back to check if he was alright.

"Is he ok?" Rowen asked.

No one answered her. No one said a word, actually.

Joyce placed a comforting hand on her son's back, guiding him back to the school. The boys followed, then Dustin, Max... until she followed, too. Once they were inside, the family of two disappeared and Rowen was left with the rest of the kids.

"Oh, guys, this is Rowen by the way," Dustin told them, turning towards her. His hand gestured towards his friends who resorted to awkward smiles and waves. "Rowen, this is Mike and Lucas."

She barely acknowledged them, turning her gaze to two thirteen-year-olds trailing awkwardly to the right of her as she inched closer and closer to the front door. Rowen had heard Dustin mention his friends before, sometimes in a good way, other times not so much. She knew she'd probably run into them sooner or later... but if there was a last way she expected it to happen, it would be this.

Not only was she feeling an urge to drag Max by her hand and leave that school behind, but her brain was boggled by what she just witnessed, and now she was growing ever so close to an outburst that would more or less be thrown at clueless kids. She felt ready to storm out of there so she could get back to work and get that done so she could storm out of _there_.

Sure, she was worried for Will's well being. Rowen had never seen anything like his 'episodes' before, not even in the slightest. What he went through, what she saw? It made her uneasy and she wanted to get away from it... But, at the same time, she couldn't help but want to know that he was okay.

She didn't have time to worry, though, so her hands were stuffed back into her pockets. "Max, we need to go. I told Hopper I'd come right back."

Max looked down at her shoes, nodding. "Okay."

"We'll walk with you."

Rowen craned her neck around to see Lucas had offered. She didn't move to object, letting the boys follow them to the back entrance of the school. Joyce and Will appeared from around a corner, meeting them as they all walked through the double doors.

Rowen moved to trail down the steps, but before she could get too far a hand grabbed at the arm of her coat. The pull made her turn to face Joyce, a now weary expression along the mother's face.

"Hey. Could I ask you a favor?" Her voice was softer than before, almost as tired as she looked.

Rowen pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Yeah, what is it?"

"Could you tell Hopper to stop by my house tomorrow? He already knows our address, so you don't have to worry about that. Just..." Her gaze tore away from Rowen to check on her son. Will returned the gesture, giving her an assuring nod before climbing into their car. Joyce then turned back to Rowen, drawing in a deep breath. "Just make sure he doesn't forget. I really need to talk to him."

Rowen stood silent for a moment, giving the mother a once over before nodding. "Of course, yeah. I'll tell him when I get back to the station."

Joyce smiled, squeezing her arm lightly. "Thank you."

Once she glided down the stairs with her son, Rowen and Max followed suit, drifting to the right while the family of two drifted to the left. The rest of the boys stayed back on the steps. She could hear them mutter amongst themselves.

"Two episodes in two days."

"It's getting worse."

"You think it's true sight?"

Lucas' question made Rowen glance over her shoulder. True sight?

Max looked back their way as well. Contrary to the expression on her face, Max had wanted to ask a million questions, starting with something along the lines of 'what the hell was that?', but she knew just what kind of mood Rowen was in right now, so she held her curiosity back.

Rowen, looked down at her watch, grumbling. "Hopper's gonna kill me."

Max threw her a look. "I thought you said he was nice?"

"Yeah, he is. But I promised I'd come straight here and straight back. It's already been half an hour since I left so I'd say we're not exactly doing that."

A hand ran through her hair frustratedly before she began searching for Hopper's keys. She found Callahan's aviators first, hooking them on the collar of her shirt, then pulled out what she was looking for. The keys dangled loudly as she picked up her pace, pushing Max to go from a lackadaisical walk to one that matched her stepsister's pace.

Rowen breathed out heavily, happy to go back to what she was doing so she could get it done. Get it done and _leave_.

"Hey, Rowen!"

But of course...

She groaned, head tilted back so her glare pointed up to the sky. He was making a routine out of this. Steve jogged up to the pair in his gym clothes with a duffle-bag slung over his shoulder, shirt stained and forehead lined with sweat.

Rowen was clenching her fists inside the pockets they were stuffed into. She turned to face him. "Do my brother's warning and the words 'I don't want to talk to you' mean nothing to you?"

Steve blinked. "Do you know how to greet people normally?"

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"Why do I always have to want something?" he asked in mock offense. "For all you know I could've just come here to say hi."

Rowen gave him a once over, holding her tongue. She shifted from one foot to the other, waiting, but he said nothing more, so she raised her brow. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. Did you come to say hi or am I right?"

Steve looked caught. His mouth dropped open. "...Okay, no. I didn't come just to say hi."

She wasn't surprised. Rowen turned on her heel, heading towards Hopper's car where Max stood waiting.

But Steve trailed after her. "Hey, hold on! I did come over for a reason."

"I'm kinda on a timetable. I don't have time to listen to your reason."

"Do you ever have time to listen, or is it just when I show up?"

She spun around. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Steve nearly stumbled over his feet when she suddenly stopped in her tracks. But he composed himself and said, "I mean, the times I've tried to talk to you, either your brother gets in my face or you suddenly wouldn't give me the time of day."

"Yeah, and?"

"And I'd like to know why."

"I think I made it pretty clear," Rowen said. "I told you I didn't want to talk to you, remember?"

"'You don't want to', or you can't?"

"What?"

"I'm not an idiot. Okay? Not only did your brother tell me to stay away from you, but he threatened me in the locker room."

"What are you talking about?"

"He threatened me yesterday. Tommy saw us talking and mouthed off to Billy about the whole thing."

Something clicked in Rowen's mind. She knew what he was talking about. The conversation she had with Billy involved that morning, too... but she didn't have time to spend thinking over it. She threw her hands up slightly. "So what? That doesn't prove anything."

"Uh, yeah it does. A lot, actually."

A beat passed.

Rowen huffed, shaking her head as she began to walk away a second time. She didn't have time for this.

"What, you're just not gonna say anything?"

She kept her mouth shut.

Steve's jaw slacked and he glared at the back of her head. Had he been having this conversation a year ago, it would have taken another turn. The words _go to hell_ came to mind... the word _slut_ and the sting of Nancy's hand across his cheek came to mind, too. So did that irritation and the way his heart felt heavy. He wasn't getting the answer he wanted and it made him feel like snapping back things he would say only months ago.

But he couldn't do that. He wouldn't, he wouldn't, he wouldn't...

But then again... "So I was right, then. He does boss you around."

His words touched a nerve. Rowen halted, fists clenching. "He does not boss me around," she growled, back turned to him.

"Then why do you always do what he says? I mean, if it's not because he bosses you around then please, by all means, tell me. I would love to know!"

Rowen turned around to face him again. "Why do you care so much?" she asked him, gaping.

"Because he's an asshole! Okay? So what if he's your brother? No one should let a guy like that tell them what to do-"

"So what if I do?!" she blurted, catching him off guard. "So what if I just go along with it? So what if it looks like he bosses me around? It's none of your business! It's none of your business if I choose not to talk to you because I know he'll beat you senseless!"

Another beat passed.

"You want to know why I don't give you the time of day?" she laughed. "Really?... It's because you ask questions that you shouldn't be asking. You stick your nose in people's business thinking you're helping when all you're really doing is being an asshole, and then you pretend like everything's okay when it's _not_. It's such _bullshit_."

Steve physically flinched.

Rowen let out a deep breath. The last time she unloaded on someone like that sat as a far off memory somewhere in the back of her mind. She couldn't remember the last time, couldn't remember when she had been so openly mad. Freely expressing her anger felt almost foreign, so much to the point that her hands began to shake, that her forehead tensed immensely. It wasn't normal. It wasn't as natural to her as it was for Billy. What was natural was bolting it up, keeping it at bay and somehow finding a way to cope.

She talked to Steve three times and somehow that form of coping slipped from her grasp.

She didn't want to yell at him. She was annoyed and stressed and sure, what she said was true. He asked questions he shouldn't have asked and he pushed at it... but she didn't want to yell. Wished she hadn't despite how doing so felt so liberating... so _good_.

It may have felt good, but she regretted it instantly.

Steve slung his duffle bag over his shoulder, nodding after a moment passed. She caught the look on his face as if he had gotten the message, loud and clear, a light bulb lit over his head. But she said nothing. He said nothing either, and they both walked away.

Rowen pulled the door open roughly, slamming it shut once she was inside. Max followed suit, tossing her skateboard in the back before buckling her seatbelt. The later couldn't help the worry that crossed over her face when she looked over to her stepsister.

The thirteen-year-old was forced to watch the entire exchange, planted behind them in a place where she couldn't move unless to bring attention to herself. She wanted to say something and yet... she couldn't think of one thing to say. Max had rarely been in this position- the position that was usually flipped, leaving Max to be the one with the hurt and the troubles and Rowen the one to comfort her. It was foreign to her in the same way lashing out was foreign to Rowen.

But she knew there was one thing that wasn't foreign. Whether they understood the other's problems or not, the stepsisters knew how to comfort without saying a word. This was the reason why Max sat back in her seat, one hand in her lap and the other wrapped around Rowen's.


	13. Welcome to the Club

"Son of a _bitch_."

" _Hopper!_ "

A huff bellowing from his mouth, he slammed his pencil on his desk, papers shifting, coffee cup rattling, spilling a bit of dark liquid onto a notepad. His hands raked through the continuously-thinning hair on his head, scrunching and tangling. Max looked at him through muffled giggles and Rowen tried to keep imaginary smoke from blowing out her ears. She didn't like that particular curse word.

"I thought you said this stuff would be _easy_ ," the chief complained.

"It's eighth-grade algebra; of course it's easy."

Hopper wheezed out a laugh, unamused. "This is _not_ algebra, I can tell you right now. What I learned in school: _that_ was algebra."

Dangling her legs from the chair next to her stepsister's, Max snorted, "Weren't you in school like 30 years ago or something?"

Offense, he looked at her with an overdramatic expression of offense. Hopper raised his pencil at her. "I'll have you know, kid, that it wasn't too long ago when _I_ was a kid."

He received a chorus of giggles.

"And doing _real_ math."

"Mr. Anderson calls what we're learning: new math," she told him, waving her hands around as her teacher had done in an attempt to make it exciting. She wasn't sure who he was trying to fool. It was math. Nothing about it was exciting.

Hopper's face looked comical. "New math?" he echoed. "There's a _new math_ , are you kidding? You can't just _reinvent_ math!"

"Was it different before?"

"It was _easier_ before," he grumbled.

Rowen rolled her eyes, standing from her desk to approach his. Hopper's office reeked of smoke and coffee, a little aftershave. She crinkled her nose. It was the fragrance of the cheap product that made her do so, out of all things. She was used to the whisps of smoke twirling around her nose, trays of stubbed out fags her brother left around the house and occasionally breathing in the smoke herself. Coffee was the same; she practically lived off of it, now.

"Take a break, chief. I'll help her." She snatched Max's homework out from under him.

"No no no- hey." He snatched it back. "I got this, I can figure it out. Just give me a couple minutes."

Her hands raised up in surrender, flopping back to her sides with a _pat_. The sound of frustrated scribbles resumed. Feet trudged away from his desk and, momentarily, Hopper glanced up from the pile of papers to see her leave.

"You don't have to hang around the station, you know," he told her. "It's Friday night; end of the week. Go see a movie or something."

"I would if you didn't have Max's math homework."

She could hear his snort of disagreement. Hopper shook his head and said, "Not what you said yesterday."

"What?"

He cut his eyes at her. "The kid's homework. It's been here since you left yesterday."

 _It was?_ Confused, she turned around stepping over the threshold to peek out into the office. "Max, is this your homework from yesterday?"

"Yup." The redhead had her nose stuck in her journal.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I _did_ tell you," she said, turning her head toward her. Max fiddled with the page in her hand, cluttered with creases and Rowen's messy handwriting, "but you weren't listening, obviously. You were too busy wanting to go home."

Rowen turned her attention back to Hopper, no longer scribbling, just giving her a look that said _told you so_. She glared his way, but a wrinkle in his forehead replaced his expression and suddenly, he pondered, "I've never known you for _wanting_ to go home."

"She went into our room and stayed there all night." Max but in loudly.

" _Max_ ," she hissed.

"What? You did."

Now she was glaring at her stepsister.

"Something I should know about?"

Back to Hopper.

"No," she shook her head, "no, it's just... I had a bad day yesterday. That's it."

He never asked about why she came back late yesterday... _later_ than she said she would. But when she gave Powell curt answers and Max sank into her chair, he gave her a look with a little too much care for her liking. He was doing it again, now, as she stood under his doorframe.

That wrinkle in his forehead was still there, his _I told you so_ look contorted into one of concern that made her felt weirdly compelled to tell him everything. It was that same look that had been across his face when he offered her a job, too. It made her frustrated... she didn't like it.

" _Stop looking at me like that_ ," she ordered, quietly so Max wouldn't hear.

"Like what?"

"Like _that_ ," she said, roughly gesturing to his face, "With some weird trusting look that makes me wanna tell you my deepest darkest secrets."

A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Your deepest darkest secrets?" He was amused.

" _Yes._ Now just... _stop it_. Give me her homework." she yanked the papers out from under him again.

Quickly exiting his office, Rowen shoved the homework in Max's face, coming around the desk to grab her bag. Max watched her stuff her belongings into it, roughly, and wasting no time.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, Speedster," she told her, lifting her chin and loudly saying, "Chief just doesn't want my help today, that's all."

"That's not what I said." she could hear him drawl. He stepped over the threshold of his office. "I'm just saying it's 5:30 on a Friday. You don't have to hang around here if you don't want to."

Placing her hands on her hips, she said, "Really?"

"Really."

She blinked. "Huh.. well, I think the multiple phone calls I got this morning from the same person would object," she retorted. Hopper scowled, and she continued, saying, "Mrs. Byers called _eight times_ Hopper, and there was no one else here. _And_ you were gone all afternoon just to answer her multiple phone calls. I may be giving Flo a break, but for the last two days it's like I've been picking up your work along with hers."

"Look, kid-"

"I'm not a kid."

Now he was glaring at her. " _Rowen_ ," he corrected, impatient.

She only stared, arms crossed.

He huffed. "Listen, what happened with the Byers, there's more to it than you think and more than I can explain right now," he told her. "I'm sorry everything's been falling on you, but I've had other things to take care of that've been taking up my time."

Rowen wanted to mention that girl that she almost knocked over; the one that knew him. The one he looked after. She could easily throw that in his face. Hopper had been slacking ever since she started working at the police station, truth be told, and with Flo's stories of his late-morning drop-ins and early-evening disappearances, she knew she wasn't overanalyzing. Granted, he might have been having some issues with said girl. He _was_ her guardian, or at least as far as she could figure out.

She wanted to mention it either way... but then again, that girl was relying on her keeping her mouth shut. They pinky-promised.

Most people her age and older thought 'pinky promises' were complete bull-shit; kids stuff. She did, too. But promises themselves? Rowen still made one, and she was a stickler for keeping hers. So she bit her tongue, glaring at her boss until he began to move around the station. Hopper went in and out of his office, searched through a couple of desks, took Powell's untouched donut from its plate. Then he disappeared into the back.

"What are you doing?"

Her question went unheard.

Hopper reappeared with a shovel in one hand and his jacket in the other.

Her bag dramatically plopped back into her chair. "Where are you going _now_?"

"I gotta take care of something."

" _Something_?"

"Yes. Something."

"Real informative of you," she deadpanned.

He gave her The Look (a name dubbed by Callahan) as he continued to go from one end of the station to the other, collecting his hat, placing the shovel against her desk as he shrugged his coat on. "It has to do with the Byer's again if you _must_ know."

"What is it with you and the Byers?" asked Rowen, frustrated.

"There's nothing 'with me' and them. They've just been through a lot this past year; that's all."

Max made herself known with a snort. "What do you need a shovel for, then?" she asked, picking up the dirt-covered tool. "Are you helping Mrs. Byers bury a body or something? 'Cause that would be kinda ironic of you."

Hopper snatched the shovel from her much smaller hands. She received The Look now. " _No_ ," he told her, looking back over to Rowen, "It's just something I gotta take care of, alright? I won't be gone for hours this time."

She groaned under her breath. "Fine... I'm taking your word for it, though."

Biting through Powell's donut with muffled words, he said, "Whatever floats your boat California." He swallowed, then pointed. "I'll be back; promise."

Hopper flew out the door, welcoming Hawkins' very cold November air into the station.

"Can we go now?" the redhead asked. Max stood from her seat, skateboard under her arm with a face that was begging her to say yes.

Picking up her bag for the third time, Rowen sighed, saying. "Ok c'mon."

" _Thank you_ ," Max breathed. The thirteen-year-old bolted, nearly reaching the door, stretching out her hand to push at the handle-...

_RING!_

She groaned.

Dropping her bag into her chair for the third time, Rowen reached to answer the phone with a, "Hold on, Max!"

"Don't answer it!"

She startled, presented with a loud voice and flurry of red hair.

"Pleeeease don't answer it, c'mon," Max whined. "Just leave it for tomorrow or something. I wanna go."

Rowen gave her a look, plucking the phone from its stand. "Hate to break it to you, Speedster, but phones don't work like that," she smiled, bringing the piece to her ear. "Hawkins Police Department."

" _Hello? Rowen, is that you?_ " a perky voice asked.

Surprised, she answered, "Oh, hi Mrs. Henderson. This is Rowen, yeah."

" _Are you working, sweetheart? I hope I'm not disturbing you. I tried calling your house but your mother said you were still at the station._ "

 _Stepmother_ , she thought.

"I'm still at the station, Mrs. Henderson, yes. But I'm done working."

" _Oh good, good,_ " said the mother. " _I hope you don't mind my asking, but is there any chance you could come stay with Dustin for the evening? Our cat disappeared yesterday and we still haven't found her, but we just got a call from a friend who saw her wandering near Lover's Lake. I'm leaving now to go help look, but I probably won't be back until very late and I hate to leave Dusty all alone. He says he'll be fine, but I was wondering if you could keep an eye on him? I'll pay you for it, of course, and extra for your tutoring session tonight, since you were coming over for that already._ "

Rowen's mouth fell open slightly. _I would get paid... twice_.

" _Rowen_ ," Max whispered, waving her hand. "C'mon."

She was hushed.

" _Rowen? Are you still there?"_

"Oh- sorry, Mrs. Henderson," Rowen apologized. "Yes, I can totally keep an eye on him. It's no problem at all."

" _Are you sure, sweetheart? You sounded unsure there for a second. If you can't, I completely understand._ "

Max walked back to the desk, beginning to poke at her arm.

"Oh no, no," Rowen shook her head. "I wasn't unsure. My _sister_ -..." at this, she swatted at Max's head, who despite dodging the swats, was still silently ushering her to hurry up, "is here with me. She just had me distracted for a second. I don't mind hanging out with Dustin for a few hours."

" _Oh, wonderful. That's wonderful. Thank you so much, dear. I'll leave the money on the kitchen counter for you to take whenever you wish. And help yourself to whatever you want while you're here. Dustin knows how to make his own dinner, so you'll have no trouble there._ "

"Ok. When did you want me to come over?"

" _Well, I'm leaving now, so if you could come as soon as you can, that would be great._ "

"Alright. I'll drop Max off at our house and then come right over."

" _Perfect._ " She could hear the mother practically beam through the phone. " _Thank you so much, Rowen. I really appreciate it._ "

"Of course." The phone was returned to its original spot. " _So_..." Mouth ajar, Rowen looked over to the redhead and said, "change of plans."

"Nooo," Max complained. "C'mon _,_ Rowen. You promised you'd come with me to the arcade."

Flopping her hands down to her sides, she gave her best puppy-dog face in a last-minute attempt to sway her. But Rowen, even with the tug she felt at her heart, shook her head and said, "I know, but Mrs. Henderson is offering me over _double_ what she pays me just to keep an eye on Dustin for the night."

"But can't you just...I dunno, drop me off on the way or something?"

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Rowen moved away from the desk with her stepsister in tow. "She wanted me to get there as soon as possible and the arcade is going in the opposite direction, so I can't." Hearing her groan, she turned her head back and gave Max a sympathetic look. "Sorry, Speedster."

"It's fine," she mumbled, but her words were only for show.

Pushing at the door, Rowen shivered as they stepped out. She couldn't think amidst the cold air they stepped out into, shivering, thinking only of climbing into the warmth of Billy's Camaro. But as she flipped the keys between her fingers, unlocking the door, an idea came to her.

Looking over the hood of the car, she suggested, "Unless you'd be ok with Dustin coming with us? His mom lets him go to the arcade all the time. I don't think she'd mind if he came along."

Max gave her a look that debunked the thought. She shook her head. "No, it's ok. We can just go another day or something."

They both slid into the car, shutting the doors with a slam and rubbing their hands together. It was now a time they wished that California weather followed them here.

Cranking the engine to life, Rowen looked over to the redhead. "Did something happen between you and Dustin that I don't know about?"

" _No..._ no, that's not it," Max shook her head again, brows drawing together. "It's just... I was hoping we could hang out for once," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders and facing her stepsister. "Just us, you know?"

Rowen smiled. "Yeah." Turning in her seat, she backed the Camaro out of the station's parking lot, pulling out into the road. "We don't get a lot of that, do we?" said she.

Max never uttered a word, but they both knew what she would tell her. California gave them time to be family, if not by blood, but just by circumstance. Ever since the move, that time had been stuffed out and taken away by something they couldn't place... or rather something that wasn't really there at all. Rowen still cared about Max, but when they got to Hawkins she just... stopped spending time with her. She kept forgetting and she couldn't find the reason as to why.

So on the way to their house she made Max a promise, let her out at the curb and said that they would find a day to do nothing but whatever it is they wanted to do together. They crossed their hearts and laughed at the gesture. But they made a point to stick to it, because even with Max's permanent scowl and Rowen's busy days, that time for just them was still important.

ii:

To her relief, Billy had come to the point of "I don't care if you have my car as long as you bring it back in one piece" after so many days of her swiping the keys and disappearing down Hawkins cold, grey roads. Once breaking down in the middle of nowhere, waiting for a towtruck and discovering that _he_ had been the one responsible for his ruined date, his complaints refused to come out of his mouth and somehow never reached her ears again. She figured his now-empty wallet had something to do with it.

Being asleep already, their dad never heard a word of it. The only consequence given was an unavoidable explanation to Susan as to why he came home so late involving "driving in circles for an hour because I got lost". Frankly, Rowen thought it a terrible excuse... but the older woman never showed a bit of disbelief and somehow, Billy was able to disappear into his room without another word of it. And Rowen was able to take his now perfectly working car the next day without any questions.

She wasn't surprised he got away with it, really. Susan was always nice with them, acting almost saint-like and assuring her husband that whatever they might've done was alright with an "it's ok, really". It never brought her into their good graces; Rowen assumed that had always been her intention. But she never failed to be kind in some way, and genuinely so. Admittedly, Rowen was appreciative of it even if the woman wasn't someone she liked very much.

And now, with a day like today, she was glad Susan acted that way. The stepmom was happy to pass along her whereabouts to her dad.

" _You're father and I are gonna be out of town all weekend. We're leaving early in the morning, so we'll be asleep when you get back. Probably gone before you wake up, too, so we'll leave a note just in case you forget._ "

She thought of this as she drove down the familiar path to Dustin's house, thankful for it, frankly. They wouldn't have to tiptoe around their dad for a near-full weekend.

 _Maybe_ , she thought, _if Hopper doesn't ask me to work this weekend, I could spend the day at the arcade with Max, like she wanted._ Rowen wasn't sure if the chief even wanted her to come to the station on weekends yet; he probably didn't.

She was only five days in and, despite feeling as welcome as she was in such a short time, she was aware that she was still just a fill-in for Flo. It made her frown. _Hopper gave me this job because I was an idiot and decided to cry in the police station parking lot_. That was what it was and she knew it. He felt bad for her. She saw it in his face nearly every single time she talked to him and saw it in the way he pretended he _wasn't_ glancing at her wrist when she stupidly left it uncovered that night.

She wouldn't speak a word of her annoyances, of course; Hopper paid her well and kept her out of the house. But she worried... _What happens when they don't need me anymore? They can't just let Flo go so I can stick around._

She wanted to laugh at herself for worrying over something so small. If they eventually asked her to leave, then she could just look for another job. No big deal... right?

Rowen shook her head, spinning the steering wheel left to drive up the concrete path, turning behind the Henderson house to pull into the driveway. Slowing down and putting the car into park, she stepped out. The garage door was empty, meaning Mrs. Henderson had already gone.

She hoped she hadn't shown up too late. Dustin could look after himself but truthfully, with his mysterious shrieking lizard and his stories, she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he was left alone for too long.

So, she trudged up the steps to the back door and knocked. She waited, one minute... two minutes... she wiggled the door handle. It clicked, twisted under her wrist and opened the back door. Rowen was presented with a very empty, very quiet living room.

"Dustin?" she called out, stepping inside.

The door closed and she heard no movement, no voice responding to hers. She stared down at the bowl on the edge of the raised hearth, overflowing with the cat-food Mews would never touch. She would always catch the cat turning her nose up at it.

"Dustin?" she called again. Rowen looked to her right, walking through the kitchen to the dining room. His notebooks sat at their usual spot on the table, one left open and abandoned next to a slice of what she hoped wasn't stale pizza. _He must've started working on a few things before I got here_.

She heard no response that time, either. It made her pause, thinking. Her feet carried her through the front room. She glanced out the windows to the front yard. Nothing.

It was so quiet in that house she swore she could hear a pin drop... which was why it made more sense to her that Dustin decided to go somewhere after his mom left vs. said kid being quieter than a mouse. He would've heard her if he had been in the house, or heard the car engine if he had been outside, somewhere that she didn't see. He would've heard her even if he was locked up in his room-...

_Wait..._

She stopped in her tracks, a shuffling catching her ears. There was no way that could've been Dustin, she had already ruled this out.

 _What if it's Mews?_ she thought.

When Mrs. Henderson mentioned the cat's disappearance, it brought her back to a memory of when she was seven. Winters in California, although chilly to its natives, were still somewhat comfortable; cold weather was almost a foreign concept, and snow was even more so. People still went to the beach in December; surfing, sunbathing, swimming. Rowen hated the heat, but she loved the water, and her mom would always take her when it got cold enough. She remembered one particular day at the beach, five days before Christmas when she sat at the edge of the waves and watched a six-year-old Billy attempt to surf, their mom standing in the water with him. To Rowen, it was chilly, and she had been complaining because the wind only made it colder. But when her seven-year-old self reached for the edge of the towel, intending to cover up, she found a ball of fur had already wandered under her arm.

A cat appeared out of nowhere, looking up at her with big eyes and a flicking tail. It rubbed into her side, and she had fallen in love with it immediately. Rowen couldn't remember wanting anything more for Christmas than that cat... but that was when the memory turned sour.

Her dad hated cats, so she couldn't keep it.

So, with Billy's help, she tried to secretly take care of the cat, feed him and keep him in their shed behind the house; she named him Speedy Gonzales, of all things, thinking he ran faster than the little cartoon mouse. Speedy disappeared after two days, and she cried in her room for a long while, thinking that her new companion would be gone forever. But one night, when she sat on the back porch with her mom... Speedy came back.

He didn't stay, of course, having disappeared again the next day. But with that memory lingering in her head, she wondered if Mews had done a similar thing.

"Mews?" she cooed, walking down the hall.

The door was closed as it was the first time she stood before it. She heard no shrieking now.. but something shuffled and moved and she wondered if the little lizard Dustin spoke of so fondly had gotten himself into a bad situation with the family's beloved cat. It was a sight which unfolded clearly in her head and it made her dread the thought of having to tell him that Mews might've made a lunch of his friend.

So she pulled open the door and peered into the boy's room, a multitude of posters on the wall catching her eye first. She smirked. But then she stepped further in, and her eyes widened at the sight of a broken tank. No, scratch that... a completely _demolished_ one. The glass was shattered and all but gone, a slimy, green goo dripping from the shards.

She heard the shuffling again. Her head jerked to the left, to a chair in the corner with shirts piled on top. At first, she thought nothing of it... but when she spotted blood stained on the edge and trailing down the cushions, Rowen swallowed, and her heartbeat quickened.

Quieter than intended, she said, "Mews?"

She scrunched her nose at the smell of the blood. Her head was telling her to leave, go outside and wait for Dustin, wherever he might've gone. But her curiosity peeked, and she found that her feet were already carrying her forward.

She heard grumbling this time, gulped, and stopped at the chair's edge. She peered over the back.

_Not Mews... definitely not Mews._

Whether a seriously freakish lizard or some alien creature straight out of a sci-fi movie, if Rowen knew anything, she knew that it wasn't Dustin's lizard who had become lunch. Limp and lifeless, it was Mews who was dead, and she could feel bile threaten to rise up into her throat at the sight of it. The creature had its head cast down, chomping and gurgling and much too distracted to notice the wide-eyed person behind it.

Out of fear, Rowen's breathing had been shallow, but when she found herself taking in a big breath.. the creature stopped chomping, and its tail twitched like Speedy's. Eyes widening, she watched as it turned around, slowly looking up to her with a bloody face... or what she assumed was a face.

Kicking into high gear and running out of there would've been the idle move, probably. But her feet no longer carried her to and fro.

She just... watched, as the creature watched her. Probably wondering if she could be lunch, just like Mews. A gurgling emitted from its throat, its head bobbed to the side. She attempted to take a step back... but then it stopped gurgling, knelt on its front feet and let out a blood-curdling screech.

Rowen screamed, barreled backward and nearly tripped over her feet. But she made it out of the room and, as once did so, shut the door with a _SLAM!_

"Rowen!"

Back pressed to what she hoped was a secure door, Rowen struggled to catch her breath, feeling as if her heart leaped out of her chest and her voice had gone with the scream she let loose. She didn't hear Dustin when he called her name, but when footsteps pounded against the floor and he suddenly appeared...

"What the hell are you doing here?!" said he, caught off guard by the sight of her sitting on his floor.

Wide-eyed and very, _very_ shaky, she shouted, "What the hell am I _doing here?! What the hell is in your room?!_ " She found her voice again.

Now his eyes were wide, or wider than they had been. "Uh, well-" he hesitated, tripped over his words. "Um.."

She gave him a look. "'Uh, um' _what_?" she snapped.

Jaw dropped, he stayed quiet. But then he snapped his fingers. "My journal. I'll get my journal, hold on," and he began to move away.

"DUSTIN!"

He startled, walking right back. "Right- no, sorry. That's stupid," said he. His eyes shut, and he let out a sigh of defeat. "Ok, I'll tell you but just... just move away from the door first."

She stared at him, then cut her eyes at the wood she was pressed against. As if thinking the creature would burst through if she took her back off it, Rowen moved slowly, the idea of standing feeling weirdly foreign. Feet wobbly and no longer carrying her forwards like they were before, she struggled to move.. but she eventually did so, and Dustin was patient. Rowen was glaring down at him now, still shell-shocked and admittedly trying to figure out if she was dreaming or not. Her hands were beginning to shake, and he was staring at them instead of looking her in the eye.

Now next to him, her hand raised and shaky, she pointed towards his door, almost whispering, "What the hell is in there?"

Dustin swallowed, raising both his hands. "Ok... I know it sounds crazy, but the thing in there... is Dart."

" _Dart?_ "

"My lizard..."

Jaw dropped, she gave him a bewildered look. "That's your _lizard_?" her voice was suddenly loud again.

"Row-"

"That _teeth-faced_ thing- _that's your_ _lizard?!_ "

"Yes. That's my lizard," he replied, trying to keep himself calm. "But you need to keep your voice down, ok-"

"Dustin, I just came face to face with a _freaking_ _lizard monster_ whose _face_ opens up," she argued hysterically. "I think I have a pretty good damn reason to be talking _loudly_ right now!"

Rowen pushed past him, making a b-line for the back door.

"Nonono hey- Where are you going?!" he asked.

"Where the hell do you think- I'm getting out of here!"

Watching her reach for the doorknob, Dustin bolted. Her keys jingled, her hand shook.. and she was too slow to beat him. She startled as he pushed himself between her and her way out, arms stretched flat against the wood, breathing out a, "You can't leave."

Giving him a bewildered look, she said, "I _what now_?"

"You _can't. Leave._ "

"Or what _?_ You'll have to kill me or something?!" she asked, very sarcastic yet still slightly worried that her words might be true. She had been paranoid over the freaky lizard, but now, frankly, the kid who kept it in his room was beginning to freak her out, too.

But Dustin gave her a "are you kidding me" look and shouted, "What? No!"

"Then _why_ the hell can't I leave?"

" _Because_ you've seen Dart, which means I'll have to tell you everything now- which _means_.. you can't say a word to _anyone_."

This was getting way out of hand.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" she asked, baffled. "What, so you're keeping a lizard monster in your room and now you have some secret.. what? Origin story? A club? Do your friends have these things, too?"

Rowen was growing increasingly hysterical with every second she spent in that house... and Dustin could see it so very plainly.

"Ok, ok, calm down. Breathe," he said, attempting to relax her. "Calm down. C'mon, just... just sit down and I explain."

But she didn't move, and he gave her a look.

"I'm not gonna murder you or anything if that's what you're thinking."

"That's exactly what a murderer says!" she hissed. Ok.. now she was making no sense.

"Rowen! I'm thirteen!" he argued loudly. "I'm not gonna murder you, now _pull._ _yourself._ _together._ _woman!_ " Tone now harder, he shook her arms in a last attempt to knock some sense into her.

Back still against the door, he gave her a few very tense moments to calm herself. She made no move to get past him, only breathed heavily and fiddled with the keys in her hand, occasionally looking behind her towards the hall. The wheels were turning in her head, he could see.

Frustratedly, she threw her hands down with a huff, and said, " _Fine_ \- fine... I'll stay. But if you tell me what the hell Dart is, you tell me _everything_. No bull-shit."

He nodded vigorously.

She gave in.

With a careful hand, the thirteen-year-old dragged her by the arm, guiding her to his mom's favorite chair. Her face told him that she was struggling to keep her composure- clearly- and with the way she was talking, it made him think that she was inching towards a nervous breakdown... or something like that.

She plopped down onto the cream-colored cushion, bopping her knee, bitting down on her lip. She wrapped one armhole over the other, hiding her hands in her shirt like he would when it was cold. But she wasn't cold; she was shaking.

Her shoulders shrugged, and shakily, she said, "So... other than the fact that you're harboring a freaking _sci-fi_ monster... what's there to explain?"

"Its uh..." he laughed nervously, rubbing the side of his neck, "kind of a long story-"

"Well, since your mom asked me to keep an eye on you, I've got all the time in the world," she interrupted, stressed and increasingly anxious with every second he kept his mouth shut. "So start telling."

"Wait, hold on," Dustin gave her a look, holding his finger up. "My mom called you?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"No!" he exclaimed, flinging his hands up and turning on his heel.

Rowen's eyes widened once more, watching him go. "No no no Dustin, where are you going- Pleasedontleavemeherewiththatthing," she pleaded.

"I'm just going to the kitchen!" she heard him call. "Jesus..." was all she heard before his words became a fit of mumbling and grumbling.

A few seconds, then, "Of course!" She heard Dustin groan, then stomp back into the living room. "Of course. I _knew_ that money couldn't be for me to order pizza or something. It was way too good to be true."

Rowen paid no attention to his rambling, eyes glued to the hall, hands still trembling.

_SNAP!_

She jumped at his fingers snapping in her face. "What?"

He stared at her. "Ok, no offense, but you're gonna have to pull yourself together if you're gonna hang around all night."

"You... you're _kidding_ , right?" she said. "After what just screeched in my face?"

"Ok, ok," he said, hands raised defensively. Dropping his head with a huff of defeat, Dustin plopped his arms to his sides. After a moment of thought, he lifted his head back up, saying, "Listen.. I get it. You just saw something.." he threw his hands out, " _super_ crazy.. but if I'm gonna explain all of this to you, and I'm gonna _have to_ explain this to you.. I'm gonna need you to at least keep it together."

"But-"

" _But_ nothing, Rowen," he interrupted. "I'm serious. _This_ is serious."

"Butwhatifhecomesout?" she whispered, pulling her hands out of her sleeves and gesturing them frantically.

"He's _not_ gonna come out," Dustin assured her. "Trust me. We'll be fine."

She said nothing for a moment, hands still shaking. She didn't believe him. Her mind was rattled and she couldn't think straight. But she needed answers.. so she took in a deep breath and yanked her hands out of her sleeves, saying, " _Fine_.. okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded, and with a deep breath of his own, Dustin began explaining.

"So.. has anyone told you about Will's disappearance last year?"

"Yeah, I heard about it a few times," said she. Rowen began fiddling with her fingers. "Everyone said he got lost in the woods."

Dustin looked as if he expected the second half of her answer, blowing a raspberry and walking over to the couch across from her. "Well.. they're not wrong. He did get lost." He sat. "But he didn't get lost in the woods."

Eyes glued to him, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"The night after Will disappeared, me, Mike, and Lucas went out looking for him," he explained. "We never found him, but... we found someone else. A girl. Her name was Eleven. Mike kept her hidden in his basement and... after a couple days, we figured out she escaped from Hawkins Lab and, well... she had superpowers."

His words only made her more frantic. "Dustin you are _seriously_ starting to lose me here-"

" _I know_ , I know, it sounds crazy," he interrupted. "But just.. here me out, okay?"

"We found her in the rain; she was cold and scared. Bad men from the lab were looking for her, so we helped her hide.." he continued. "We didn't believe it either when it happened but.. she _did_ have superpowers; she could move stuff with her mind."

"What does this have to do with Dart-"

"I'm getting there, I promise." he cut her off again. "Moving stuff with her mind wasn't her only superpower. Somehow, with the radio at our school she was able to talk to Will. Or well, not _talk_ but she found him on one of the channels. Ya know, like Professor X... and she figured out where he was."

"So, where was he?"

"He was right where he was when he disappeared. He just... wasn't where we thought he was." Rowen gave him a look, but he held up a hand, and she kept her mouth shut. Hesitantly, he continued, "When Will disappeared he was dragged into another dimension... and the thing that dragged him there is the same creature that Dart is."

Rowen stared at him for a few, reasonably tense moments. Her hands stopped shaking as badly as they originally were, but she bit down on her lip once more and picked at her nails. She was processing everything he told her.. or at least attempting. "So... Will was dragged into another dimension by... whatever the hell Dart is."

"Demogorgon," Dustin clarified. "We call them Demogorgons."

"Eleven escaped from this lab, you found her, you hid her. Then she found Will with her-..." she shook her head, " _superpowers_."

He nodded.

"But how did you get him out of..."

"The Upside Down," he finished her sentence for her.

"The Upside Down," she echoed. "How did you get him out of there?"

"We didn't. Mrs. Byers did," he said. "Back at the lab, before El escaped, they opened up this portal.. a gate, ya know. One that could let people go into the Upside Down. And somehow, Mrs. Byers got into the lab, went through the gate, and found Will."

A few more moments of bopping her knee, then: " _Jesus._.." Rowen breathed, head leaning into her hands. She rubbed at her eyes. "Demogorgons, other dimensions, _superpowers_ ," she mumbled, standing to her feet. She paced for another couple of moments, then out a nervous laugh and said, "This is insane, Dustin. _Mental_."

He said nothing.

She paced some more, rubbing her head. But then she halted in her tracks and turned to him, pointing. "I swear to God if you're making this up so you can keep some freakish lizard-"

"I'm not making this up!" he objected. "I _swear_ , I'm _not_. And it's not just us and Mrs. Byers that know about it."

"Then who else knows?"

"Will's brother, Jonathan, knows; Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Hopper-"

"Wait... _Hopper_?" she snapped. "Hopper knows?!"

" _Yes!_ " he exclaimed. "They all know. And I'll take you to all of them if that gets you to _believe me_. But before we do _anything_ , we _need_ to figure out what to do with Dart."

A long, anxious sigh escaped her mouth. She began pacing again. 'The Upside Down', a girl that can move things with her mind, freaky, green lizard monsters... What did she walk into? A Stephen King novel? She had pinched herself plenty of times to come to her senses and realize she wasn't dreaming, but...

"It's _not_ that I don't believe you," she finally said, taking in another deep breath. "After seeing Dart, I would've believed you if you said Unicorns were real. It's just... This is just _insane_."

"It's a lot to take in," he muttered. "I know."

"A lot to take in?" she echoed, coming back to her seat. "Dustin, you're telling me that things I've only read about are _real_. We're way past 'a lot to take in'." She leaned back in the chair, rubbing at her eyes once more. "Wait-..." at this she lurched forward, elbows now leaned on her knees. "If Dart is one of those Demogorgon things that dragged Will into the Upside Down, then why do you have one in your _room_?"

Dustin laughed nervously once more. "Well, I uh sorta... kinda didn't know he was a Demogorgon until an hour ago."

Her eyes slowly fell shut, and she mumbled, "Of course you didn't."

"And he was tiny up until today."

"Of course he was," she mumbled.

"And I was down in our cellar when you showed up, but I just figured it was my mom so that's why I didn't come up."

She glared at him. "Hm.. so _that's_ why I almost became monster lunch," she said bitterly. "Just like Mews."

A pillow hit her arm. "Hey!"

"He _wasn't_ gonna eat you," Dustin objected.

"And how exactly do you know that?" she challenged.

Mouth now ajar, he sat in a few uncomfortable moments of silence. "I... I don't."

Her brow raised, hands held out as if to say ' _told you so_ '.

" _Either way,_ we need to get him out of my house."

That sat in a few moments of silence, one still listening for any movement behind that closed door and the other waiting for said person to say something.

But then, Rowen shrugged, took in a shaky breath and asked, "So what should we do?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I was gonna post rowen and Dustin's full conversation but it's already really long, so I decided to cut it off here and save the rest for the next chapter. But whoooh! Rowen finally knows. How do you guys feel about the Rowen and Dustin duo, huh? I was gonna skip the Upside Down story with a short lil summary of Dustin 'explaining' .. but it didn't sound right. I wanted you guys to see her full reaction to everything, too.


	14. This Isn't "The Mist"

For the past half hour, Rowen called just about everyone that Dustin could think of. From Joyce Byers, to Nancy Wheeler, to Mike and Lucas.. no one was answering; not even on the walkie talkies the boys used every waking moment. Their last hope was Hopper, but even he was somewhere they didn't know.

Although that hadn't managed to damper Dustin's spirits.. because when Rowen mentioned his radio scanner, his face lit up and he said, "That's good! That's _really_ good, yeah. Ok, so, you go back to the station, reach him on the radio, tell him that it's an emergency and to come to my house as soon as possible. Then-"

" _Or_.." she interrupted him, heading back to the kitchen. She plucked the phone from the wall. "Instead of leaving you here to do who knows what, I could call the station and not have to leave at all."

The number was dialed before he could say otherwise.

The phone rang once.. twice.. three times..

" _Hello?_ "

"Hey, Powell."

" _Hey,_ _Rowen. What's up?_ "

"Nothing much. Could I ask you something?"

" _Somethin' wrong?_ "

"No, no," she shook her head. "Uh, I was just wondering.. did Hopper come back from the station yet?"

" _No_.. _why? You need to talk to him?_ "

"Yeah. I do, actually. Could you radio him and see if he picks up? Just tell him I need to talk to him as soon as possible."

" _For sure, for sure_. _Just stay on the line, I'll see if I can catch him real quick._ "

Rowen took her ear away from the phone, covering the mouthpiece. "Powell's checking to see if he picks up," she informed Dustin, his confusion now twisted into realization.

" _Rowen? You there?_ "

She gave Dustin a look that said: "see?" and spoke into the phone. "I'm here."

" _Hop ain't pickin' up_."

Her brow furrowed. "He's not?"

" _Nope_."

"Well.. do have any idea when he'll be back?"

" _My best guess is that he already went on home. You could try his cabin, but if he doesn't pick up, then you could talk to him in the mornin'. You workin' tomorrow?"_

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Uh.. I don't know. Hopper never talked to me about weekends, um.. do you have the number to his cabin?"

" _Yeah, it should be somewhere 'round here_.."

While Powell shuffled through his things, Rowen whispered for Dustin to get a notepad and pen. He rushed behind her, shuffled through some drawers, then reappeared. She took the pad from him.

" _Alright alright, here it is. You ready?_ "

"Hit me." Squishing the phone between her shoulder and her ear, she pressed the pad onto the wall and began to write down the number. "Uh-huh.." she scribbled some more. "Uh-huh.. ok. Thanks, Powell."

She hung up the phone, then took it back off, beginning to dial the number she wrote down. Dustin took the notepad, ripped off the page and stuck it in his pocket; in case they needed to call Hopper again, she assumed.

The phone rang again.. once.. twice.. three times... four times... five times... six-...

" _Hey, you reached Jim. I'm probably doing something incredible right now so-_ "

She slammed the phone back on its stand with a groan.

"Hopper's not answering either."

Dustin rolled his eyes, flinging his hands up. " _Now_ everyone decides to be MIA."

Rowen leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "So.. what else can we do?" she asked, watching as he paced.

"Nothing. My mom's gonna be home in a few hours," he said, collapsing into a chair. "We're gonna have to wait till tomorrow."

ii:

Mrs. Henderson came home with what Dustin concluded as an "even worse look than she had when she left". She had spent hours looking for Mews down at Lover's Lake with a friend, walking around the entire area, searching in the forests nearby with their flashlights and cat treats. The friend had sworn she spotted the cat there.. but by the time it reached 10 o'clock, Mrs. Henderson gave up. And she left in a state.

Rowen felt bad for lying about Mews when the older woman came home; she really did. And she could see Dustin felt worse... but unlike Joyce, Claudia Henderson was blissfully unaware of what exactly 'kidnapped' Will a year ago.. and now what ate her cat. At around ten minutes till the clock struck eleven, she collapsed into the same chair Rowen had a few hours prior, tearing through a good handful of minutes with tears and immediate soothing from her son.

Rowen waited awkwardly at the kitchen counter, fumbling with her hands and thinking of the creature that was currently eating their cat. It took the mother until she composed herself to realize that she was behind her. And when she did, Claudia sprung up, giving what was perhaps a dozen apologies and even more thank-yous. Tired and drained, Rowen was rendered speechless by the action. But Dustin came right up to his mother, calmed her down once more, brought her away with a few choice words and eventually got her to wander down the hall into her own bedroom. He even went in with her, making sure she sat down on her bed rather than the floor.

Rowen smiled at it. The way he and his mother had such a close relationship warmed her heart... but at the same time, she was amused at how easily he could convince her to do things. She almost assumed Dustin just had a way with words. But who was she kidding... the woman was distressed because her beloved pet was gone. And now Rowen had to help her son figure out how to get Mews's murderer out of their house.

So, after he nearly bolted out of the hall and back to her, as she messed with the keys in her hand, his last-minute plan was fleshed out.

The idea was to get his mom out of the house again, looking for Mews in order to buy them a few hours. But _how_ he would get her to do that? Well.. he wasn't sure yet. And since the chief was MIA along with every other person they could trust.. she had no choice but to stay at her own house and wait for Dustin to call, giving the 'all clear'.

 _Hopefully, Hopper will be at the station in the morning_ , she thought. _We need to get Dart away from Dustin.. away from his mom.. away from Max, Billy, that girl I almost ran into... hell, everyone in this goddamn town._

She almost drove past her house with the complete mess of thoughts and worries she had swirling in her head.

Going up the porch steps wasn't such a breeze, either; going through the door, turning off the abandoned TV, wandering into her room to see Max asleep on her bed yet again. She couldn't stop thinking about everything Dustin had told her.. about Dart, about Will, his friends.. Eleven... another _freaking. dimension_. As if having a "Demogorgon" screech in her face didn't shell-shock her enough, now she had a whole 'rift between dimensions' scenario to wrap her head around.

She felt like she had fallen into a weird version of _The Mist_... only there was no mist, and she wasn't trapped in a supermarket. _And_ she had to attempt to _trap_ the monster she was faced with alongside a thirteen-year-old.

God, what had she gotten herself into...

Wait.. no... what had _Dustin_ gotten her into. She would have been just as clueless as his mom of the whole situation had he not been hiding away in his storm cellar. Rowen wasn't about to blame him for everything; she knew it wasn't his fault. He had no idea she was coming.. but as shocking as it was to find that Hawkins wasn't as boring as it made itself out to be... she wished she could put that evening in reverse, avoid the Henderson house and continue to be blissfully unaware of the other-dimensional creature lurking in the shadows.

She couldn't though. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't just go back and erase it like the whole thing was in one of her stories.

Her bag was tossed in the corner where her pile of notebooks sat forlornly. She'd touched none of them; none but two, and one sat happily on her nightstand instead. For a second time, she tried collecting Max's homework off of her bed as quietly as she could, setting it on the bright green bedsheets of the redhead's own twin bed. After days of being rarely slept in, they were still relatively clean, somewhat reeking of that detergent Susan loved to dowse everything in and leave the house smelling of for weeks. Rowen hated it, but she became somewhat nose-blind to the smell after breathing it in for so long.

After changing into sweats and a long sleeve t-shirt, feeling her stomach growl, she stalked into the kitchen. Her feet were bare, and she shivered against the tile lining the floor of the tight space. She shivered when she pulled open the fridge, too, but she was too hungry to care.

_CLICK!_

Hearing the front door creak open, Rowen paused in her late-night fridge raid. With the open door and an unusual amount of silence, she already knew her brother wasn't home; probably catching a ride to go somewhere with Tommy or Tina or whoever. She had breezed right by his room moments ago, unaware of the tapes strewn about the floor and broken stereo in the corner, left abandoned. But when she peeked through the threshold to see the occupant of said room...

"Jesus, Billy," she whispered, going from one end of the counter to the other as he walked in. "What the hell happened?" She gave him a once over, eyeing his hands and his face. But his hands especially.

He swatted her hand away before she could touch his temple; a cut dragged from his brow, blood dried in a trail that ended at his ear.

"Nothing you haven't seen before."

"Bullshit," she bickered weakly, not caring much for firing back. "Tell me."

He chuckled dryly, watching as she disappeared back into the kitchen. As much as she used it, Billy was still annoyed by her "big sister tone". She didn't care, though. Rowen knelt under the sink, looking for the first aid kit she would occasionally bring out after one of Max's wipeouts on her skateboard.

"Why don't you ask Max? Sure she'd be happy to tell you the whole story."

She paused in her search. Rowen peered over the counter from where she squatted, catching Billy stalk down the hall. She scrunched her nose. Quickly pulling the little kit from under the sink, the doors were closed quietly, and she followed him. She appeared at his door just as his denim jacket was being discarded. He pulled it off roughly, but winced when the sleeves dragged over his hands... and he completely failed at hiding it. The skin on his knuckles were split, dried blood cracking and leaving the cuts open once more.

They were too familiar to her, those cuts.

"What happened?"

Billy plopped on his bed while she leaned against the door frame, but he said nothing. So she moved, closed the door and pressed, " _Billy._."

He cut his eyes at her as he unlaced his boots.

"You said 'ask Max'. _What happened?_ "

Moments of silence sat between them, tense, just like it had been between her and Dustin.

"It was after you left," he finally said, tossing the clunky shoes to the side. "Everything was fine. _Weirdly_ fine.. but for once this place was actually _quiet_.. so I didn't pay any attention to it. I was waiting for my ride to a party some girl named Heather invited me to.." he threw her a look, "'cause _someone_ took my car."

Rowen made a face, mocking his bitter words. He didn't notice when she had opened his door again, disappeared and came back with a warm washcloth. Billy only came back to reality when she softly shoved him, made him slide further down the edge of the bed with a quiet " _move_ ".

"After being in here for a while, I hear voices start raising," he continued, giving her his hand to cover with the rag. It was a process they were used to; the sting of it, too. "Susan doesn't want Max to go anywhere until they get back for some shitty reason, but Max wasn't having it and started arguing with her... then Neil got between them." He clenched a fist, the other twitching in hers as she wrapped it with what gauze was left.

"Max starts going back and forth with him about not wanting to stay here all weekend, wanting to go to the arcade or some shit. I don't know," he grumbled. "I stood at the door in case... I thought Max would just give up and stomp off, but they kept getting _louder_ and.. Jesus, that little shit; it's like she doesn't know when to stop. They kept going at each other until he just _exploded_. She bolted into your room before anything else could happen, but when he moved to follow her..."

He trailed off, but they both knew how the rest of his story unfolded. Rowen relaxed just the slightest bit, mentally sighing at the assurance that Max was fine. Her ego bruised, maybe.. but fine. Rowen couldn't help but think of his mention of the arcade, though, remembering how she promised Max that that would be something they would do together. She wondered if the redhead was hoping they'd get to tomorrow... but hoping enough to argue that intensely?

"She's a pain in my ass, but there's no way I'm letting him get to another kid," Billy muttered.

Rowen smirked at that. "Good to know you don't completely hate her."

"Why would I hate her?" he muttered, but then scoffed, adding, "Wishing I could duck-tape her mouth shut, maybe but.."

She stopped wrapping his hand. Scoffing herself, she sat back, giving him a look of disbelief. "C'mon Billy. Seriously?" she pressed. "The constant jabs at her, blaming her for moving away?.. You get in her face every time she says something like she can't do anything right-"

"'Cause she never _listens_ ," he interrupted.

Finishing his left hand, Rowen scowled, intentionally yanking his right in her grasp just a bit too hard. "Maybe there's a reason she doesn't."

"Yeah, 'cause she's a brat," he grumbled.

"She's not a brat-"

"Yes, she _is,_ " he snapped, lowering his voice before it could raise. No one but the two of them were awake, and he didn't want another run-in with Neil's explosive anger by waking him. "If you'd stop petting her for one second, you would see that."

Rowen stared and the hand she wrapped, clenching her jaw, pressing the bandages against the broken skin. She secured the gauze with a hard jerk, and Billy yanked his hand back with an " _Ow_." He stared down at his bandaged hands, rubbing them. "How'd you get to doing this so fast?"

She glared at him. "Between you and the _brat_ , I've become a regular nurse."

He caught the emphasis on the word, the bitterness in her voice.

Shutting the small, white box, Rowen stood, heading towards the door. She let a moment pass, wanting to leave their conversation at that. But something else poked at her, so she turned her head towards him and bit out, "I may be _petting her_ , sure. But at least we can have a conversation that doesn't start and end with yelling... like someone else we know."

Billy stared at the floor, clenched his wrapped up fists, clenched his jaw.

After a long while, he muttered. "I'm not him."

"Yeah, I know," she replied plainly, twisting his door open. "You're something else."

iii:

Against the pull she felt to stay near the phone at all times the next day, Rowen stopped by the station come 11 o'clock. Billy drove her with a grunt and mumble of words not even bothered to decipher. She stepped out with an eye roll and a very pressed point towards him to not leave her there. Needless to say, they weren't exactly on speaking terms... and, admittedly, their reasons were pathetic no matter what way she looked at it.

Both of them cared just a touch too much for their egos, and Rowen wasn't about to be the one to step down first and "hold out her hand and make amends". Even if she thought the entire thing was stupid.

So she strode into the station with one eye on her brother's pristinely clean car, giving Flo a wave against her sour mood.

"Hey Flo," she greeted.

"Hi sweetheart," the older woman smiled, looking up from her desk. "You hear to give me a hand today?"

How and _why_ just about every woman older than she had settled for calling her 'sweetheart', she didn't know.

Rowen shook her head with a smile, leaning her hands against the wood. "Sadly no," she told her. "But I am here to see Hopper. Has he come in yet?"

Flo gave her her signature sigh, shaking her head. "Not yet," she said, glancing towards the radio behind her. "That man, I swear he's got his own personal time table. If he wasn't the Chief, I'm tellin' you, he would've been fired a long time ago." Rowen couldn't help but grin at her ramblings, making Flo chuckle. But then the older woman turned her attention back to her, asking, "Why you ask? Somethin' the matter?"

"It's nothing the Chief can't help me out with," Rowen brushed off.

Flo peered at her over her round glasses. "Well, you know I can always help you out too if you need it, right?" She placed her warm hand over Rowen's colder one, giving it a light squeeze.

Rowen nodded. "I do. I just really need Hoppers help with this one."

Flo gave her a once over, but then nodded herself, saying, "Alright. I'll give you a ring when Hop comes in.. _if_ he comes in."

Rowen nodded again. "Thanks, Flo."

Keeping herself from bolting out the front doors, she stepped out into the cold, skies cloudy and winds too strong for her liking. She slid into the Camaro, a familiar yet oddly quiet tune of Billy Idol humming from the speakers. Billy drummed his fingers against the wheel, glaring hard at whatever was in front of him.

"You gonna tell me why you made me drive you all the way here or what?"

"Nope," was all she said, seatbelt buckled.

The two of them mumbled and grumbled, one whipping the car out and onto the main road, another leaning her head in her hand, elbow against the window. They had never been _this_ quiet around each other, not since the move, not since the hours of unpacking boxes that rendered them silent for a whole other reason. As she told herself earlier, she thought it stupid, what they put themselves in now... but as her pride continued to climb, rising as high as his, Rowen never made a move to mention it. And, as expected, neither did Billy.

She slammed the door once they reached their house, standing in all its humble glory under the clouds that made it look duller than it already had been. Billy sped away, wheels screeching, echoing down the road even as she stepped inside.

"Max, did anyone call the house while I was gone?" was the first thing that came out of her mouth.

"Dustin did!" she heard her call back.

She felt her heartbeat quicken, thoughts of the night prior suddenly shoved to the front of her mind again. With her grumbles and glares towards Billy since she woke, Rowen almost forgot about everything that had come before.

"What did he call for? Did he leave a message?"

She got no reply, only a _thump_ from her room. A few grunts and sniffs followed. Rowen heard a _RIP_ and gazed down the hall in confusion. Until Max stomped out, two pieces of her board in hands with a roll of ducktape around her wrist.

Rowen stared down at it, mouth ajar. "What happened?"

"I busted," Max grumbled. She set the pieces on the dining room table, plopping the ducktape down with it. "I was skating down the main road and tried doing this flip I've been practicing since we moved but.." she trailed off, then shook her head. "My board was ready to break anyway."

Placing a hand on her hip, Rowen asked, "I don't need to patch you up like Billy, do I?"

Max smirked. "No," she mumbled, cutting her eyes at her. Max began to run her fingers over the broken wood. "Not that I care... but is Billy okay?" she asked sheepishly, attempting to sound nonchalant. She had seen the bandages on his hands earlier that morning- fresh ones which Rowen forced him to keep on -and was informed of what she missed soon after. "I mean.. ya know, as in he has no internal bleeding or anything."

Rowen smirked at her.

"He's fine," she huffed, trailing over to where Max stood, pouting at the sight of her broken board. "Just pissy and a little more bruised than usual."

The redhead stared down at the ducktape, watching as Rowen yanked it off, wrapping it around the two pieces of her board in an attempt to salvage the poor thing.

"It was my fault, ya know," Max said quietly. "Why Neil was so mad."

The ongoing _RIP_ ceased.

"If Billy unloaded on me at some point in the near future, I wouldn't be surprised," she laughed, but it lacked humor.

Rowen kept silent for a while, looking down towards the thirteen-year-old, who avoided her gaze. Max wasn't wrong. Billy _was_ mad, and she _was_ the reason he came home with busted knuckles- the result of repetitively punching whatever poor object he wouldn't disclose to her -and a nasty cut above his eyebrow. But, if Rowen had guessed right, her promise was the reason Max argued so stubbornly. Which made it Rowen's fault.

It was what she wanted to tell her, but she knew Max would call bullshit the second Rowen put everything on herself. She had done it before. So, Rowen sighed and said, "I'm not gonna say it's _not_ your fault... but you shouldn't feel guilty for what he did to Billy. _Billy_ made that choice to put himself between you two. Surprisingly, but... still."

A long pause followed. More duck tape ripping resumed.

"If we should blame anyone for anything, it's dad," she continued. She spoke somewhat fearfully.. as if he might've been listening behind a corner the whole time, just waiting to jump out. He wasn't.. but she still shuddered.

"We have him to blame for a lot of things."

"For everything," Max corrected, quietly as she had.. as if Neil might appear from somewhere, ready to lash out at their words.

iv:

Becoming lost in their conversation, Rowen had stayed at the house for another half hour. She'd forgotten how the redhead had told her yes, someone called while she was gone; that yes, Dustin tried to reach her. She lounged around as music from the TV broke the quiet of the house, softly, in a way that didn't rattle her eardrums like Billy's music would. For the first time in a while, she was able to find a station she liked without protest from anyone. She scribbled away at her "supernatural Michael Myers story" as Max had called it, attempted to help her salvage her board. Max never said another word aside from the occasional question, shut away in her room and focused on rescuing it from the point of no return. Rowen even found time to make lunch, grateful for the fact that she could make something edible instead of rummage through the fridge in the police station breakroom. Sometimes she forgot to pack a meal, sometimes she didn't. And the times she didn't, she would find her food had suddenly vanished. She really needed to mark her lunch from now on, write a threatening message so the guys don't take it again, maybe.

With Neil and Susan away, and Billy out of the house (taking his pissy mood with him), for once she was quite relaxed. Her legs dangled over the side of the plush armchair, her notebook sat in her lap. She was in quite the makings of her own little happy place, however temporary it was.

But when the phone went _RING!_ and Dustin's voice suddenly bellowed into Rowen's ear, she nearly coughed out bits of a peanut butter sandwich, and fell right back into the thoughts that clouded her mind the night prior.

" _Rowen!_ _Where the hell are you?! I called like forty-something minutes ago!_ "

Swallowing, then coughing, she questioned, "You did?"

" _Yes! Now get over here. My mom's gonna be gone all day, so we gotta figure out what to do with Dart._ "

After being hung up on before she could think, Rowen took a few moments to collect herself; throwing a piece of bread and peanut butter in the trash. She was no longer hungry, too caught up in somehow getting to Dustin's house and wondering how she had missed his first call. But then she thought of Max. Rowen resorted to hollowly chastizing her stepsister when she flew into their shared room; stupidly, and in a way that she couldn't take back after her words spilled out of her mouth. Max still didn't know the truth of what Dustin was harboring, only that he had found some new species of slug.. or whatever he'd called it. And Rowen's excuses, being last minute, weren't the best. The redhead was too slow to question it, though.. which gave Rowen the opportunity to leave before she could ask.

Rolling down windy streets under clouds that threatened to let the bottom drop was her only option, peddling her old bike that had somehow managed to make it from one side of the country to the other. Billy was still gone, hanging out who-knows-where with who-knows-who and sitting on the car that she really wished had been at home. Her legs ached, and she hated that she had been so out of shape compared to him because, by the time she reached Dustin's street, she was breathless.

She stalked up his long driveway, rolling the bike alongside her until she came to the back of the house, letting it plop into the grass.

"Dustin?" she called, noting how the back door was left open. Rowen looked around the backyard, a mess of concrete, weirdly placed trees and a multitude of steps, a shed that looked as if it was about to collapse...

_BANG!_

She jumped, looking over to a storm cellar.

"Finally!"

She jumped again, hand on her chest.

Dustin appeared at the threshold, arms held out at his sides. "What took you so long?"

Rowen couldn't help but gape at him. She took in the hockey padding on his legs, pieces that forced him to waddle down the steps. " _What_ are you wearing?"

"Protection. Or part of it anyway," he said plainly, looking behind her, then around her. "Where's your car?"

"I biked here," she told him, gesturing to her old, yellow Mongoose.

His brows drew together and he gave her a look. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because I don't _have_ a car," she stated.

"What about your brother's car?"

"He has it."

"Why does he have it?"

"Because it's _Billy's_ car, Dustin!" she exclaimed. Rowen took in a breath, and she eyed his gear again. "Why are you wearing all that 'protection' anyway?"

"Well, while _you_ took a half hour to get here-..." at this, he pointed to himself, " _I_ trapped Dart."

She stared at him. "By yourself?"

He smiled proudly. "Yup."

"Dustin!" she suddenly barked.

His smile deflated, and he gave her a defensive look. "What?!"

"You could've been potentially _killed_ doing that," she fussed. "You know that, right?"

"Rowen, he's a _Demogorgon_ ," he argued. "Anyone could've been killed doing that."

"He could've gotten loose!"

"Well, he didn't, did he?" he said, gesturing to the cellar, its doors chained shut.

"Still, it wasn't smart," said she, arms now crossed.

"Nothing about this is smart," he deadpanned, but it did nothing to convince her.

"But you could've gotten seriously hurt," she chided, a grave expression on her face. "And that would've been on me."

"Yeah, but you could've, too," he threw back. "That's why I went ahead and did it."

A pregnant pause followed. Rowen glanced between his expression and the supposed 'protection', then turned her attention to the cellar. The banging had ceased, and a chain was wrapped tightly around the handles, secured with a lock. But somehow that did nothing to ease her. Dart may have been the size of a small dog, sure, but they had no idea how strong the creature could be. Which... in hindsight, was probably why Dustin did what he did.

After a while, she said, "You know if I _did_ somehow get hurt, it wouldn't have been your fault, Dustin. That would've been on me, too."

He looked away from her. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't 've exactly felt great about it."

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she looked to the concrete under her feet. Dustin wasn't an idiot, she knew that... or well, at least she hoped. Seeing the change in his face told her that he meant it: he went ahead and did everything himself on the off chance that she might get hurt. And, admittedly, Rowen was touched. Rattled by the fact that he did something incredibly stupid and dangerous, but still.. touched.

She let out a defeated sigh. "You know what? Nevermind. Don't worry about it," she brushed off. She pointed a finger at him. "But no more monster hunting without me, alright?"

That got a smile out of him. He nodded shyly. "Deal."

"So what do we do now?" she shrugged, glancing down to the cellar. "Now that Dart's trapped in there."

Dustin stood silently for a moment. He let out a heavy sigh. "I should bury Mews's body somewhere back here. Can't leave her in my room." Rowen threw him a sympathetic look. But then he grimaced with a very audible groan. "Ugh, I gotta clean my carpet, too 'cause there's blood all over the place." He turned back to her. "Could you help me get Mews out here?"

Rowen grimaced herself. "I can try, but if I throw up, _that's_ on you."

"Oh c'mon. It's just a cat body."

"Yeah, a cat body that got chewed up by your freaky lizard."

"Demogorgon, Rowen. _Demogorgon_."

They trailed back into the house, mumbling and grumbling on a much lighter note than she and Billy had been. Rowen never had a funeral for a cat.. but she planned to make sure Mews was properly buried and sent off to cat heaven without fail. Or wherever cats went after they died. She hoped it was somewhere warm and comfortable because, despite his dry eyes and remarks, she could tell Dustin was still upset over the loss of his pet.

She couldn't deny that carrying a half-demolished cat body to his backyard made her stomach churn. Dart wasted no time in making the poor feline his lunch and the sight was sickening. But with Speedy in mind, Rowen plugged her nose and helped Dustin dig a hole, bury her and give a few moments of silence. She had her arm slung over his shoulders for every bit of those moments, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze after catching the glum look on his face.

By then, his 'protection' was disregarded and thrown into the shed out back, and after they trudged back into the house, Dustin left her be to scrub blood off of his bedroom floor. He had tried a great deal of convincing, hoping Rowen would help him to make it a little more bearable. But she didn't budge and, like a babysitter, ordered him to go do it himself. Dustin grumbled and complained, stomping from his room to the kitchen multiple times with bright yellow gloves on his hands and just about every cleaning fluid he could find in his grasp.

Rowen didn't sit and watch as he did so, though; despite wanting to. For the next two and a half hours, she had her back leaned against the wall, making telephone calls to everyone they could trust just as she had the night before. She called Flo a total of three times, all resulting in no luck and no Hopper. The Sinclair's answered, but the conversation ended with Mrs. Sinclair telling her that Lucas had "gone to hang out with Dustin". Thankfully, the older woman had no way of knowing that Rowen had, in fact, called from Dustin's house. Mrs. Byers didn't even answer her phone, and Rowen waited on the Wheeler's line for much longer than she liked.

Thinking back, she knew she probably should've gone to their houses instead of attempting to call yet again... but the thought of leaving Dustin with Dart in his storm cellar felt wrong all of a sudden. Even with the knowledge that he had trapped the creature all on his own. Unofficial babysitting gig from the night prior aside, she felt herself growing weirdly protective of him.

As if the looming reminder of his mother and having shouted in his face about how stupid he was hadn't made that clear enough.

Giving up on her phone calls for a moment, Rowen hung around on the couch until Dustin finished cleaning his room, putting every piece of furniture, clothing, and forgotten toys back into their respective places. The Wheeler House was tried for a third time as he walked back into the kitchen, arms full of cleaning supplies and disinfectant. But as it had the last two times, the line went busy.

"Ok, no more pointless calling," she stated, hanging the phone back in place. "We're biking to houses."

She watched as Dustin aimlessly stuffed products back under his kitchen sink.

"Have any of your friends picked up?" she asked.

"They're not answering," he grumbled, shutting the small doors with a slam. "I dunno why everyone's MIA all of a sudden. Will's one thing, but Mike and Lucas always answer."

"Well, then c'mon. Let's go see if they're home." She waved him along. Dustin nodded, scrambling with the things he left on the floor in an attempt to put them back hurriedly.

Rowen immediately strode towards the back door, hands stuffed in her pockets to keep them from twitching. She eyed the clock, calling out, "Dustin, c'mon!"

A few grumbles caught her ear, then he appeared around the corner.

"Alright, alright. Jeez, for someone who took almost two hours to get here, you're in a rush."

Rowen only smiled smugly, ruffling the red, white, and blue hat that covered his curls.

Given that she had come up with the makings of a somewhat intricate story, going to the Sinclair House wasn't an option. His parents were under the impression that he was happily spending his time with the kid that currently followed her, therefore Lucas would just have to find out about everything later on. So, to the Wheeler House they peddled, riding down Maple Street until they came to the cul-de-sac at the end of the road.

Rowen had to admit, Tommy wasn't wrong in his description of Nancy's home. It was without a doubt one of the most pristinely kept houses she'd seen, as was the front lawn and the hedges along the front, perfectly trimmed from the first to the last. She wondered if it was as perfect on the inside as it seemed to be on the outside. Her own house, albeit smaller, had a way of turning curious glances away just as much as her father did; solemn and polite on the outside, never once giving a clue as to what occurred on the inside.

She doubted it.

She stood away from the pristine house, waiting in the driveway while Dustin all but scurried over to the front door. A man, who she could only assume was Mr. Wheeler, answered. He looked down at Dustin with round glasses- much like Flo's -and a painfully bright blue sweater. Nothing about the expression on his face was warm. In fact, he looked very _very_ bored.

Their conversation was muffled, but Rowen caught a few words.

"Your line has been busy for over _two_ hours, Mr. Wheeler. Do you realize this?" was the first thing she heard.

She smirked.

"Karen, where's our son?" Mr. Wheeler called back into the house.

More muffled words, then, "Karen, where's Nancy?"

Crossing her arms. she watched on as their conversation became inaudible to her ears once more. But then Dustin walked away with a scowl on his face, and the man took a step out of his house.

"Hey- language!" waened Mr. Wheeler as the thirteen-year-old stomped off towards her. His warning seemed to be hollow, though. As serious as it sounded, he stayed at the threshold, shaking his head at Dustin's back. Somehow, Mr. Wheeler never saw her; which was strange, considering she stood right in his line of sight. She was sure he had even looked her way, but he closed the door with a just as equal measure of boredom as he had when he opened it. So, giving the now shut door a perplexed look, she turned her attention back to Dustin.

"No luck?" she asked.

"No," Dustin sighed.

Rowen sighed herself, arms still crossed. Despite the anxiousness given from their situation, she wasn't in much of a hurry anymore. She felt drained, if anything, and dreaded having to pedal all the way back to Dustin's house. And then, eventually, back to her house. They were back at square one... or two- or whatever the hell they were at before they left the Henderson residence.

He moved to pick up his bike, pushing her to do the same. But before she could even take a step, the growl of an engine made both of them pause, Dustin dropping his bike handle and Rowen turning her head. A deep burgundy car pulled up to the curb, steam blowing out of the muffler as it came to a stop. She hadn't realized she was shivering slightly until it caught her eye, making her rub at the sleeves of her sweater.

The tail lights shut off, the driver's side door opened. They watched as someone emerged, shutting the door and rounding the front to-...

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," she muttered.

Of course, she would run into him of all people. Of course, Steve Harrington would show up at the most unexpected time; who else would? Rowen suddenly found peddling all the way back to Dustin's house much more fun than it had been thirty seconds ago, picking up her own bike in preparation to mount and speed off before he could see them. She seemed to be alone, though.

As Steve strode down the lawn with a bouquet of roses, messing with his hair and muttering to himself, Dustin wasted no time in walking over before he could reach the Wheeler's front door.

"Wait- Dustin, stop!" she hissed. He didn't hear her.

"Steve! Are those for Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler?"

Steve jerked his head towards him, slowing in his tracks. He looked down at the bunch of red flowers in his hand, looked back up to Dustin. "No?"

"Good."

The bouquet was ripped from his hands the second the word came out of his mouth. Dustin made a b-line up the hill that was the Wheeler's lawn, his deep blue bike long forgotten.

"Hey! Wh-" Steve began to go after him... but as Rowen reluctantly approached with a frown on her face, he stalled. His eyes widened and he gestured his hand towards her. "The hell are you doing with Hargrove?" he gaped, glancing between her and Dustin.

"She's helping," Dustin said plainly.

Rowen huffed. "That's one way to put it."

"Helping?"

" _Yes_. Helping," he repeated, turning on his heel. "We can't talk about it here. I'll explain everything on the way."

Dustin's hand suddenly reached for the passenger door, opening it, and Rowen's mouth fell open in realization. "Oh, no no no. I am _not_ getting his car."

His arms fell to his sides in defeat. "Why not?"

"'Cause she hates me," Steve answered for her, sporting a tight-lipped smile as he placed his hands on his hips.

She threw him a look. "I don't _hate_ you. I just don't wanna be in the same _vehicle_ as you."

"Pretty sure it's the same thing."

"It's _not_ -"

"Guys!" Dustin shouted. They both turned to him, but he pointed his gaze at Steve. "We have bigger problems than whether Rowen hates you or not. Do you still have that bat?"

"What bat?" asked Steve.

"The one with the nails," Dustin explained, waving the bouquet in his hand.

" _Why_?"

"I'll explain that on the way too. We need to go. _Now._ "

A pause followed. Steve raised his brow. " _Now_ _?_ "

"Now!"

Dustin's shouts made him hurridly trail back up to his car. Rowen, however- as stubborn as she was feeling -stayed put. And it didn't go unnoticed.

Flopping his hands down to his sides once more, Dustin pleaded, "Rowen, _come on_. Please?"

Loudly, she sighed through her nose. She _really_ didn't want to get in a car with Steve Harrington. Not when she had a gross feeling that she would receive a million more unwanted questions from him; nevermind the reminder of the last time they saw each other. When she screamed in his face. Sure, it had given him a clear message- and apparently, that had been that she hated him -but he didn't look as startled into silence as she hoped he would be. Not close. Not even remotely. He just looked as pissed off by her presence as she was by his. And he probably had questions to come with it, too.

He had already reached the driver's side of his car by the time Dustin resorted to pleading, leaning against the open door. He didn't look as keen to get her to come along, and she didn't expect him to, either.

Steve weakly flung up his hand from where it rested atop car roof. "Look, Dustin. If she doesn't wanna come, she doesn't have to come-"

"No! You don't get it, Steve. She has to."

"Why does she have to?" he asked.

"Because she _knows_."

"She _knows_ what?"

Dustin sighed dramatically, frustrated. "She knows about what happened to Will last year," he told him, then lowered his voice. "What _really_ happened."

All of a sudden Steve became much more animated. His eyes widened to the size of saucers, his mouth stuck in a permanent "o", his hands planted flat on the top of his BMW. "Wait- she.. she knows? Like _knows_ knows?"

" _Yes_."

"Wh-.." Steve fumbled over his words, looking between them. "How? _Why?_ "

"Like I said, I'll _tell you_ on the way," he pressed, turning back to Rowen with a pleading look.

Even after watching the entire exchange, she still had her arms crossed, a hard look on her face. But it was slipping. Whether it was the silent reminder that they had an other-dimensional monster in Dustin's storm cellar, or the look said kid gave her which very creepily resembled Max's puppy-dog eyes... she was slipping. She knew it. Even with the want to avoid the guy who was now staring at her in both bewilderment and utter confusion.

She couldn't stand in the Wheeler's front lawn forever, stubborn-headed and annoyed. Either they'd make her move or Dustin would... and she had a feeling the later would do it first. Despite his pleads, he was already staring at her like he was considering the thought.

"You're not gonna let him move until I give in, are you?" she asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

"No."

Now it was her turn to be dramatic. Rowen let her head turn up to the sky, sighing long and loudly. "Fine," she grumbled, jogging up to the car. "But you owe me, _Dusty_."

Dustin gave her a horrified look. "No no no. You don't get to call me that," he objected, pointing at her. "Only my mom calls me that."

"You're making me get in a car with Sunglasses here," she fired back, jabbing a finger in Steve's direction. "I can call you Dusty all I want. Now get in the back. I call shotgun."

She pushed at Dustin's shoulder, making him sulk and dramatically pull open the back door. Rose petals fell at his feet, breaking away from the bouquet he had been shaking harshly since he swiped them. She knew he didn't take what she said to heart, but calling him _Dusty_ hit a nerve; she could see that plainly. He moved to slide in, throwing his backpack onto the seat. But then he suddenly shot back out, shoving the roses in her hands.

"Hey- why are you giving me these?"

"They're gonna get ruined if I keep holding them so just.. take them for me, okay? I'm gonna give them to my mom."

Rowen stared down at the bouquet. "Apology gift to follow the hard truth about Mews?" she guessed.

Dustin only nodded.

"Hey! You guys made a big deal about leaving, so why are you talking? Let's go!" Steve all but shouted at them from the driver's seat, earning two replies at the same time.

" _Alright_ , asshole! Jeez.."

"Okay, okay. What crawled up your ass and died?"


	15. Let Bygones Be Bygones

"Wait, so how does she know again?"

They were all riding uncomfortably in Steve's car. Steve tapped his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel, Rowen sat awkwardly next to him with the bunch of roses at her feet, and Dustin leaned over her seat trying to explain everything once again. Even with the amount of room in the BMW, they felt squished together. Some more than others; the some being Rowen.

Dustin was too focused on the fact that he had to repeat himself to feel truly uncomfortable. He already explained his last-minute dishing out of everything that happened last year that she somehow managed to understand. He already explained Dart, finding him in his trash, keeping him in his turtle's tank for a week and then bringing him to school, only to bring him back home, then come back the next day to find he had grown four sizes bigger. And sure, leaving Dart in his room probably wasn't the best idea, and Rowen's appearance may have been untimely, but unlike everything else that had been going on, her discovery was an accident. It was that simple.

"Like I said: she showed up at my house when I was down in the cellar. She saw Dart in my room and freaked out."

"I did not _freak_ out," she objected.

"Yes, you did." Dustin snorted.

"Why did you go into his room in the first place?" Steve asked, glancing in her direction.

"Because I heard weird noises. Who wouldn't go into a room after hearing weird noises?"

"Uh.. me. That's who."

"Oh, yeah," she scoffed. "Because you're so smart."

"This isn't about being smart. This about you snooping around."

"I wasn't snooping! I thought it was Mews. That's why I went in there."

"Mews? Who's Mews?"

"Dustin's cat," she told him. "And who are you to call people out for snooping? Mr. 'I can't mind my own business'."

"Okay, that is seriously over-exaggerating things."

"No, it's not."

"Why is this about me all of a sudden?"

"Guys!" Dustin silenced their arguing. "As much as I would _love_ to know why the hell you're at each other's throats, you can argue some other time. Hopper's MIA. Will, Mike, and Lucas aren't answering. We're the only three that know about Dart and we have to figure out how to keep him in my cellar until someone picks up and comes to help us."

"Dustin, we've already covered all of that," Steve said. "What's your point?"

"My point is, you guys are gonna have to suck it up and play nice."

Rowen scoffed in her seat, poking a finger towards Steve. "I can do that as long as he keeps his mouth shut- _Ow!_ " She flinched as Dustin swatted her arm.

"Am I the only mature one here?" Dustin asked himself.

"That's rich," Rowen said snidely. "Coming from the kid who whined when I tried to get him to work on his grammar."

"Hey!" he said defensively. "It was really hard, okay?"

"Dustin, it was _one_ paper. _One_ sheet of paper that you had to fill. It wasn't that hard."

"Yes, it was!"

Steve rolled his eyes. He didn't even try to defuse their arguing as Dustin had, letting his car fill with meaningless bickering and a soft tune from the radio for the couple minutes they flew down the streets. There was no point in trying to stop it. By the time Rowen finally got Dustin to drop the subject, they were already cruising towards his house. Watching the sun slowly dip behind the trees, they rolled up the driveway where the cellar sat waiting. The sky was already dark shades of blue and orange, which meant their time until Mrs. Henderson came home was shortening. But when Steve turned to pull into Dustin's garage...

"Shit. My mom's home."

They all stared at the yellow vehicle with different levels of nervousness.

Rowen looked down at her watch. _4:55_ She turned around in her seat to look at Dustin. "I thought you said she would be gone all day?"

"I _did_. I thought she would be," he shrugged. "I guess she came back early."

"No shit, Sherlock," said Rowen as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

Steve killed the engine and all three of them climbed out at once. Dustin was quick to race to the garage, putting himself in front of Rowen. The porch lights were on, and she could see the flicker of the TV in the living room.

She crossed her arms, staring down at him. "You know you're mom's probably worried sick, right?"

Dustin jabbed a finger in her face. "Hey, that's not my fault. You were the one that said we should bike to houses." He scowled, but he didn't seem as annoyed with her as he sounded. His expression softened when she raised her hands in surrender. Then he looked behind him towards his house. "Okay, so, I'll go inside and come up with some explanation for my mom. She likes you, so if she knows I was with you, she won't be that mad. You and Steve go down to the cellar and wait for me. The key for the lock is inside, so I need to go get it anyway."

"Any other orders, Chief?" she joked, giving a mock two-finger salute.

"Yeah," he deadpanned. "Try not to yell at each other anymore."

Rowen watched as he scurried off, sheepishly opening the door where his mother awaited. She could hear Mrs. Henderson's voice from where she stood.

"Dusty! Where on earth have you been?"

Rowen smiled.

The door shut and she moved from where she stood, trailing to the back of Steve's car. She wasn't acknowledged. He unlocked the trunk, twisted the keys out and tossed them to her without looking up once. She didn't say a word as he searched through the things he left stranded inside, and neither did he. But when he pulled out a bat with nails that looked like they were hammered into the business end, she felt pulled to say a few choice words. Or rather ask a few questions which were now buzzing in her head. But still, she said nothing.

Although that didn't keep her mind from reeling. What kind of Demogorgon were they fighting last year to where they would need a spiked bat? How big did these things get? Would Dart get bigger?

After grabbing a flashlight, Rowen headed down the path to the cellar, hearing the trunk slam and Steve wordlessly follow behind her. She pointed the yellow beam towards a pair of red doors, held tight by rusted metal chains and a lock. There were no dents, no sign that Dart had attempted to escape. There was no noise, either. No shrieks that made a chill run up her spine. Maybe Dart decided to give up after being trapped for hours. Maybe he fell asleep... or did Demogorgons even sleep at all?

Steve stepped around her, his own flashlight in one hand and the bat in the other. He observed the cellar doors, bat pointed towards them as if something might break the chains and jump out without warning. She didn't blame him. Dart had screeched in her face without warning, too. But... as she recalled that night, she remembered he hadn't come after her. She expected to have become a second meal or at the very least an addition to his body count. After the terror that shook through her whole body, she feared she would have ended up like Mews. But now that she thought about it, Dart might have roared at her just to scare her; so he could get back to his "lunch" in the corner of Dustin's room.

Somehow that only made the thought of opening the cellar more terrifying. Dart no longer had an animal to munch on, so what if he charged at one of them?

"You sure this thing is trapped down there?" asked Steve.

Rowen shrugged. "That's what he said."

"What do you mean?"

"Dustin trapped him before I could get here," she explained.

"He did this by himself?" he gaped.

She nodded.

"Damn."

They fell back into silence after that. Steve took a step forward, turned his ear towards the door. He stood back and stared at it. Rowen crossed her arms once more.

He shook his head. "I don't hear shit."

Then a door shut behind them. Rowen turned her head to see Dustin run their way, down the steps and into the mess of leaves and concrete to join them. Keys dangled in his hand.

"Got 'em," said he, holding up the piece of metal.

Steve shushed him. He stepped forward again hesitantly. The door was poked by his bat first... then hit with a _WHAM!_ But there was no response, no slam in return to let them know Dart was in there.

"Still don't hear shit," Steve said.

"It's in there," Dustin muttered.

"Dustin, are you sure Dart couldn't have escaped?" Rowen asked. "Maybe he found another way out of the cellar."

Dustin gawked at her. "Rowen, it's a _storm cellar_. You know? One way in, one way out."

"Sorry," she said defensively. "We don't have storm cellars in California."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Tornadoes aren't common there."

_WHAM!_

Steve whacked at the door again. He stared down at it for a few moments, bat dangling from his hand...

"Alright listen. I swear if this is some sort of prank you two put together..." he said, pointing his flashlight in Dustin's face. "You're dead."

"It's not-"

" _Alright?_ "

"It's not a prank. Get that out of my face," said Dustin.

Steve turned the flashlight towards Rowen's face. Her eyes squeezed shut at the brightness of it. "Ow- hey! This isn't some stupid prank."

He only raised his brow.

"I'm serious. Why would Dustin tell me everything if it was?" she insisted, swatting at the light. "Shine that thing somewhere else. It's making my eyes hurt."

Steve still looked skeptical, but conceded, dragging the beam back to the door. "Ok," said he, glancing at Dustin. "Unlock this thing."

Dustin jumped into action, wiggling the key into the lock and dragging it off of the chain. Steve helped him unloop the chain from the handles, tossing it to the side. Rowen stood behind them, still wary of what they would encounter and standing a good distance away. One at a time, the doors opened with a loud creak. None of them made a move to go down the steps, but Steve kneeled at the entrance, casting the light onto the floor at the bottom.

Rowen took a few brave steps to stand behind him, peering over his head. She saw nothing; nothing but the concrete floor and absolutely no sign of Dart ever being trapped.

"He must be further down there," Dustin concluded. He didn't sound very sure of himself. "I'll stay up here in case he tries to.. escape."

Rowen and Steve shared a look. Sure, if Dart charged up the stairs it would be best if he stayed up there. Standing right in his path.

Steve shook his head. "Rowen, you keep an eye on Mr. 'I'll stay up here'."

"Gladly," said she, feeling just as scared as Dustin sounded.

Steve took a few moments, but after standing to his feet, he began to tread carefully down the steps, bat held defensively in front of him.

Rowen knew there was a reason he went slowly. They didn't know much about what Dart could do, and he _could_ potentially attack them. But with her anxiousness and nerves ready to burst any second, she kind of wished Steve would go a little faster. Seconds felt like minutes with the amount of tension built up around them.

Eventually, it got to where they could no longer see his unmoving head of hair. They could barely catch the flashlight when he reached the bottom, but even that disappeared after a while. Rowen and Dustin waited. A faint light clicked on below. They heard no growling or inhuman gurgling, but somehow that only made her more nervous.

"Steve?" Dustin tried.

It was dead silent.

"What's going on down there?" he called.

A light suddenly beamed into their field of vision, making both of them jump.

" _Shit,_ " Rowen cursed, a hand placed over her chest. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute.

Steve stared up at them with a grim look. "Get down here."

Rowen glared at him, Dustin cursed under his breath, but they both did as asked. With Steve acting as a reassurance that there was no other-dimensional creature ready to pounce, they trailed down the steps at a much quicker pace than he had. Dustin reached the bottom first.

"Aw shit," he muttered.

When Rowen stepped to his side, she scrunched her nose. There on Steve's bat was the same, gross, dripping goo that had hung from the tank Dart once occupied. And with it... was some kind of skin.

She cringed. "What _is_ that?"

"Dart shed again," Dustin informed her.

That was when their attention was drawn to the corner of the cellar. Steve pointed both bat and skin to a pile of bricks, broken and thrown to the floor after being clawed at harshly. There was a large hole, behind it a tunnel.

"No way..." Rowen mumbled.

They all walked towards it. Steve kneeled before the hole, Dustin crouched to peer inside. The tunnel was long and narrow, going for an unimaginable amount of feet. Maybe even miles. But as the guys gaped at what they were presented with... all Rowen could think of was how Dart was not there. She moved away from the tunnel, looking up the stairs to the backyard above them. She heard nothing, saw nothing. But the hairs that stood on the back of her neck made her wonder if Dart wasn't as far as they thought. Along with the million other things they did not know about these creatures, their intelligence was another. Steve and Dustin may have come face to face with a Demogorgon before, but they still knew very little of what they were capable of.

She climbed up the stairs.

"Rowen?"

Reaching the top of the cellar, she stood at the entrance, looking left... looking right... spinning on her heals to peer into the growing darkness with her flashlight. The sun was set now, and the thought of Dart being out there where she couldn't see made goosebumps rise on her arms. Dart couldn't always screech and growl. She knew he couldn't. He could be quiet, sneaky... and he could just as easily be miles away as he could be only a few feet away from her... or a few feet away from her house.

_Max._

"Rowen?" Dustin had come up next to her, stepping out of the cellar with a concerned expression thrown her way. "What's wrong?"

Soon Steve stepped out of the cellar, too.

"I need to go back to my house," she told Dustin. "Max- I need to... Max is home alone and Dart could be anywhere. I need to go."

Giving him no time to answer, Rowen began to look for her bike. She looked in the garage, peered behind Steve's car, pointed her flashlight down to the grass. But it wasn't there... and that was when she realized.

"Shit," she cursed, throwing her flashlight to the ground. "Dustin, we left our bikes at the Wheeler's."

She could hear him curse, too. "My mom's gonna kill me. That was my third bike this _year_."

"Don't worry, short stuff. I can get it for you."

They both turned their heads towards Steve.

"Are you sure?" asked Dustin.

"Yeah. I'll just swing by and stuff it in my trunk," Steve shrugged, clicking his flashlight off. "I can strap Rowen's on the roof."

Dustin grinned, nodded his head and accepted the offer with a, "Awesome. Thanks, Steve. You're saving my ass."

But Rowen wasn't so willing. "No, you don't have to," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "I can just grab mine and ride it back to my house. I'll be fine."

Dustin threw her a worried look. "But.. what about Dart? He might show up."

She threw him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine, Dustin," she repeated. "Seriously. Don't worry about me."

"No, you're not biking home." Steve interrupted, shaking his head.

"And why not?"

Breathing out a sigh, Steve let the spiked end of his bat hit the ground. "Listen. I'm not gonna enjoy it any more than you are," said he. "But you said it yourself: this thing could be anywhere. So, it's probably better that I just drive you home."

She turned to Dustin, but he only shrugged. "Better safe than sorry."

Rowen looked between them. She exhaled, catching the look Dustin was giving her. She knew they were right. Dart quite literally could be anywhere, waiting in the brush on the side of the road, walking right in the middle of the road. It didn't matter how she imagined it. By biking home, she was putting herself at risk no matter which possibility turned out to be true. Even if none of them were.

Her hands plopped to her sides. "Fine."

"Okay. So, since my mom's home, we can't look for Dart tonight," Dustin said. "But we should meet back here first thing in the morning."

"To do.. what, exactly?" Steve shrugged. "Ride through the whole town until we find a Demogorgon casually wandering around?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Well..." Steve started off strong as if he was ready to spew out this grand idea. But he fell silent. He had no ideas, they could see that as clear as day. "Okay, but I'm not using up all my gas so we can find this thing. If we even find it at all. By the time we come back tomorrow, it could be miles away."

"You don't _know that_..."

Now Dustin and Steve were bickering. Rowen bit her lip, turning away from the two. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark by then, being able to see the limbs of the trees brush together, wind combing through the leaves that had yet to fall. The branches almost looked like hands, ones that might stretch out to grab them while their backs were turned to drag them into the brush. She hadn't realized how intimidating Hawkins could be at night. Had Steve and Dustin not been bickering, they would have been surround by a near-dead silence; nothing but the wind to howl in their ears. It was quite the makings of a horror movie.

Teens find monster. Teens trap monster. Monster escapes and leaves teens to wonder where in the world it could be, and how in the world they would catch it. If they could at all. Trapping something that hid in the shadows was a risky game. Looking for it was even riskier... but the biggest risk of all, probably, was letting it run loose. They had to real Dart back in somehow, maybe lure him with another cat body or something-...

"We could bait him," Rowen thought aloud.

They stopped bickering.

"What?" asked Steve.

"Bait him. You know, like another trap," she explained, turning to Dustin. "What did you use to trap Dart in the cellar?"

Dustin wracked his brain. "I lead a trail of baloney from my room to the doors."

"Right. So, if we led a trail of something else Dart likes to eat to..." she shook her head, "wherever we choose, then we could find him that way. It would make it easier for us and save time."

"Okay..." Dustin said. "But if that does work, what happens when he shows up?"

"We're going to have to kill it."

Back to Steve. He had his hands placed on his hips, a grim expression across his face once again. And he noticed when Dustin sported a crestfallen look.

"Listen, Dustin. We fought off the Demogorgon at Jonathan's house last year, sure," Steve said. "But we didn't kill it. All that damage we did only made it run away. So who knows what it takes to kill these things. You said Dart was.. what? The size of a small dog? That was before it shed, so it's probably bigger now. We have to kill it before it can grow again."

Dustin was trying his best not to look upset over Steve's words. Rowen could tell. Not even a week ago he was talking to her about the thing like he was his little buddy. A pet he cared about the way he cared about Mews. And why wouldn't Dustin talk about him like that? He told them the thing looked like an innocent little slug when he first found him. But now... Dart had a face that opened up like a flower and a desire to eat anything he came into contact with. Rowen couldn't understand why or how Dustin had managed to form some kind of bond with the thing, but the look across his face still made her squeeze his shoulder.

Dustin nodded reluctantly. "Okay."

"So we'll meet here tomorrow?" Steve asked.

"Tomorrow."

ii:

In a span of fifteen minutes, Steve managed to both stuff Dustin's bike in his trunk and tie Rowen's on top of his car without any problems. Of course, as they both expected, the Wheelers noticed when headlights peered into their windows and two teenagers stood in their driveway with bikes in their hands. It was Mr. Wheeler who gave Steve the rope that stretched around his car roof, after all. He even offered to help which, to Rowen, had been a weird experience. The man she saw in front of her was a stark contrast to the one she saw talking to Dustin a few hours ago. But Steve let him help anyway, let Mr. Wheeler clap him on the shoulder and invite him to dinner "sometime soon", throwing Rowen a nod and saying "make sure you get Nancy's friend home safe, Steve". All of that and then some, just to hide the gross reality that was Steve's relationship status with Nancy. Clearly, her parents knew nothing about their breakup, and it was obvious that Steve didn't want to be the one to tell them. Rowen was barely acquainted with Nancy and yet he made an effort to make sure Mr. Wheeler thought they were the exact opposite.

But Rowen said nothing of it. She didn't say much of anything really. Not when they left Dustin's house, not when they left the Wheelers. The only thing to break their awkward silence was the radio, which spewed out a low tune of Queen. Though, she wasn't sure if it was as awkward as it was tense. Sure, their last conversation didn't end on anything close to a good note, and Rowen just watched a very questionable scene unfold before her eyes. But all she could think of was reaching her house before that _thing_ did. Dart, Demogorgon, "freakish lizard monster"... unlike Dustin, she didn't care. If there was one thing she and Steve could agree on, it was that they had to kill it. She wanted to kill it as soon as possible, in fact.

For now, though, she was forced to sit in his car yet again.

"So, what's your address?" Steve asked after many minutes of silence. "'Cause I don't want to drive in circles all night."

"We live on Cherry Road," Rowen told him. "It's a straight shot when you turn left off Maple, so I'll just tell you which house it is when we get close."

She only heard a hum in response. He began tapping his finger on the steering wheel, same as when they were going to Dustin's house, only now it followed the beat of "Hammer to Fall". The tapping didn't annoy her then, it shouldn't have annoyed her now. But somehow it did... and it was confusing. Rowen assumed she'd be grateful for the lack of conversation, any noise that wasn't his voice. Yet, as she sat there she found herself wanting him to talk again. Even with the music and his tapping, it was still _too silent_. Silent enough for her to actually want to listen to him.

Rowen found it funny... but she hadn't realized she'd laughed at it.

"What?" Steve's voice broke her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "I just didn't expect you to be so quiet... No questions."

She heard him huff through his nose, muttering, "Yeah, well... you made it pretty clear you don't like it when I ask questions."

She bit the inside of her cheek, the memory all too clear in her head. "...Right," she mumbled.

Rowen chanced glancing over at him. Steve looked straight ahead, the remains of a scowl on his face. She looked back to the road, too.

"Listen..." Steve exhaled. "I know I'm pretty much the last person you want to listen to right now but, for what it's worth... you were right."

Rowen frowned, tilting her gaze towards the radio. "Right about what?"

"All of it. Acting the way I was, asking you all those questions," he said, his hand lifting off of the steering wheel. "And when you started to get mad at me, I... I shouldn't have pushed it. You said you didn't want to talk in the first place so I just shouldn't have talked. I should've dropped it."

She huffed. "Yeah, you should've," she agreed quietly. Rowen paused, turning her gaze out the window. "But I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"It's not like you didn't have a good reason to yell."

"Maybe, but it was a stupid reason."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, glancing between her and the road.

Rowen pursed her lips, letting her head fall back on the headrest with a long sigh. Her hands lifted from her lap only to plop back down with a pat. "I was... _tired_ , and _annoyed_ , and my day was already shitty as it was. Billy left Max at school so I had to pick her up and then, of course, he called me right before I left the station because he thought I messed up his _stupid_ car, so I got even _more_ annoyed and... then I lost track of time, so I was rushing and-" she broke off, shaking her head. "You just... caught me a bad time."

"I could tell," he huffed.

Rowen exhaled deeply, rubbing at her temple. "Sorry I unloaded on you," she muttered out sheepishly.

"No. I deserved it, believe me."

Rowen sat silent, chewing at her bottom lip.

"Besides, every time I caught you was a bad time," he joked weakly. "I mean, the punch? Knocking you over? Billy getting in my face when I tried apologizing? I had your journal for almost a week just so I wouldn't have to deal with him again. And it _still_ went bad."

Rowen couldn't help but feel somewhat amused. She wondered what exactly Billy might have said or done to him to make him do so. "...Guess you could say we got off on the wrong foot more than once."

"The really wrong foot," he agreed.

"Really, _really_ wrong."

A long pause followed.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't normally explode like that," Rowen added. A sigh escaped her lips. "It's just... everything around me, from Billy, to my job, to those _douchebag_ friends of his that won't leave me _alone_. I let it all get to me and get me worked up which is just so... so-"

"Stupid?" he guessed.

"Yeah," she breathed.

Now it was Steve's turn to sigh. "Still, I'm... I'm sorry for all that," he apologized.

They let the low tune of Queen silence them. Steve began tapping his finger against the wheel once more. Rowen could spy familiar houses come up to their right, eyeing her own come up slowly.

"There," she pointed. "That's the one."

The car slowed. Steve pulled up to the curb.

"So... should we let bygones be bygones?" he offered.

"'Let bygones be bygones'?" she echoed.

"Yeah. Start over, you know?" he said. "So we can help Dustin trap Dart without... I don't know; arguing him to death or something."

That got a chuckle out of her. "He looked like he was ready to explode in your backseat."

"He might've if he didn't stop us."

They both smiled.

"But yeah," Steve continued. "We trap that thing, we find a way to kill it. We find Hopper... then we can go our separate ways, I guess."

Rowen turned her gaze down to the console. She nodded. "Sounds good."

Steve nodded in return.

"For better or worse, you won't have to see me after that," he assured, suddenly finding the knobs on his radio very interesting. "Don't worry."

Rowen scoffed. "Oh, don't sound so down in the dumps. We'll see each other again." She uncrossed her legs, fiddling with her seatbelt.

Steve paused in what he was doing. He threw her a look, brows drawn together. "'We'll see each other again' as in... what? We're friends now?"

Rowen let her head fall against the headrest, eyeing him. "We're not friends, Sunglasses." She sat up, unbuckling her seatbelt and clicking the passenger door open.

"I mean it's a small town," she clarified. "We're bound to see each other at some point."

Steve huffed, dipping his head. "Right," he muttered. He looked down to his radio again, messing with buttons and checking the dials for any imaginary problem he might have to fix. It was a habit, something that would distract the complete mess that was the connection from his brain to his mouth. Something that would keep every little thought from spilling out. _No more stupid questions_ , he told himself. _Just leave her alone._ _Worry about your own problems_.

He wasn't even sure why he asked her everything that he did, to begin with. Sure, he was as curious about the newcomers as the next guy. He knew he wasn't the only one who came up to her. But the times he talked to her, everything he said, it just came out like word vomit and, when she told him she didn't want to talk, that only seemed to make things worse. As if being told "no, I don't want to have a conversation with you" was the bain of his existence, something he could not let happen. Of course he could let it happen. She was one girl, one person who didn't trail over to his corner. It wasn't supposed to nag him. It shouldn't have nagged him.

After last year, people began flocking away from him in twos and the idea of high school popularity began to look less and less appealing. He spoke to fewer and fewer people, hanging out with not only Nancy but Jonathan Byers who- not even a week before battling a Demogorgon in his house -had been labeled as a stalker by none other than Steve himself. While the title still left people's mouths, he hadn't been "King Steve" in a while. He was no longer one to make friends left and right, bringing up a crowd behind him like he used to. He didn't want it anymore.

Yet, after he returned her notebook and got thrown those words... that want began to nag him. Oh, did it nag him. And he dealt with it in perhaps the worst way possible which, was probably why the connection from his brain to his mouth snapped in half and he found himself spewing out those questions just to get an answer out of her that wasn't "I don't want to talk to you".

It was as if he couldn't accept that as his answer and couldn't realize he wouldn't get any other until she yelled in his face, calling out what he was doing for what it was: _Bullshit_. That was when the connection from his brain to his mouth returned. Because Rowen was undoubtedly right.

She was right and, in short, he let his old wants and his old habits go to his head, let Rowen's answer get to him as she had let Billy and his friends and her job get to her, making her yell in his face. It was all just... _stupid_. He was being stupid. Which was why he felt all the better when Rowen agreed to forget and move on... even if that meant she still didn't want to talk to him. _We're not friends_...

He repeated those words in his head as he helped her untie her bike from the car roof, as he drove down Cherry Road with the same tune that made the awkward space between them bearable.

It was as Dustin said. They had bigger problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the shorter chapter! next few will be much longer (:


	16. Unicorns

How both her siblings never took notice of the BMW that rolled up the curb with her in its passenger seat, she would never know.

Max was one thing, having drowned herself in homework or a new skateboard trick to perfect many times over, not always being super perceptive when one of the two would grasp her attention. But Billy? Billy being completely uninterested in how she got home and why she came home after him was a miracle. An utter miracle. Sure, he knew boundaries. He was never one to be that obnoxious, little brother stereotype that would poke his nose into every bit of her business. But Billy was the furthest from oblivious, and the furthest from turning the other way when something suspicious caught his attention.

If anything, she expected to come eye to eye with crossed arms and the face of the last person she could lie to.

Yet, when she came inside and dropped her bag onto her bed, she caught his closed door. Music blared through as it commonly did at night, Max was drawn into the TV in the living room, and neither of them ever asked any questions. Or at least any questions that didn't come from arguing over the toppings of the pizza they ordered for dinner.

She must have been better at sneaking around than she thought. That or Billy assumed she took an extra shift at the station and told Max not to bug him about it. The later made more sense. And with the way they were avoiding any and all interaction since that morning, the later was probably true.

Max may have not been home alone as she originally thought, but that didn't make it any better. Rowen still worried over Dart, imagining his potential appearance and with it, many different scenarios of how he could appear. It left her to dutifully peer out the window every half hour when her siblings were not looking, left her to be uncharacteristically silent for the rest of the evening. Left her to lie awake all night, fiddling with the ends of her hair instead of trying to get some rest for the eventful day to come.

She hated it when she couldn't sleep, so much to the point that Max called her "Grumpy Pants" when she did not get enough. But, as if by some miracle, the lack of rest didn't hinder her much when she woke. She still had the same, nerve-wracking feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her forget everything else. She was still worrying over the same things, still playing with her hair... the only difference was that she now had a coffee cup in her hands.

Steve had, against her assumptions, offered to pick her up that morning, claiming that Dart could still show up anywhere at any time even after the sun rose above them. He mentioned how it would save her the trouble of biking all the way back to Dustin's house, too.

He wasn't wrong. Her legs ached from the amount of peddling she had done and truthfully, she wasn't enjoying the soreness one bit. She turned him down, though, reminding him of the brother that got in his face and the sister that didn't like him that much either after watching their last exchange. What a scene that would have been if one of them had caught him parked at the curb. She could imagine a number of different ways that could play out... but all of them ended up with Steve on the ground and a conversation she did not want to have.

It was better that she risk biking down Cherry Road on her own.

After downing her large mug of coffee, Rowen sped into her room, caffeine now settling in her system. The stack of journals was ignored once again. They were beginning to collect dust, and it made her sneeze as she whipped by them... but that was all the attention the black books were given. Books which she, not even a week ago, spent so much time flipping through and scribbling in. What had made her stop writing again? Her job? Having a faceless monster screech at her? Having to track down said faceless monster with the kid she tutored and the guy she had been trying to avoid for the past two days? ... She wouldn't be surprised if the reason was all of it. It all rolled together into one huge pile of anxiety and distraction, and there she was getting ready to step back into it.

Rowen changed out of the tee-shirt and pajama pants, replacing it with skinny jeans and the same, gray-blue sweater she wore the day before.

Tying the laces of her faithful black Chucks, she marched towards the back door with an "I'm working an extra shift at the station. I'll be back later," thrown Max's way, ready to take the same path she took to Dustin's house the day before. But when the telephone went _RING_ once again, and no one moved to answer it, Rowen halted, and plucked it from the wall...

" _Hey_ _, it's Dustin. Change of plans. Meet us at the Hunting & Camping store on Briarcliff. We need to get a few things._"

She didn't need to ask to know what "we need to get a few things" meant. They wanted to stock up on supplies, no doubt. Set as many traps around their bait so they knew for sure that Dart would be dead. _Gone_.

At least that was what she assumed. Rowen considered the shotgun her dad kept in the back of the garage as she grabbed for her bike. It was hidden out of sight and never once used since he put it there. He wouldn't notice if she took it... but other people might if she was riding down the street with firearm slung over her shoulder. It was way too long to fit into her measly shoulder bag.

_No shotgun, then._

Within twenty minutes Rowen rolled into downtown, tucking her bike in the narrow alley next to the police station, safe and out of sight. She walked the rest of the way, trailing one street over from where she claimed she would be for the day and into a mess of sharp objects and loaded weapons. This was not even close to how she imagined spending a Sunday. Or any day.

"Maybe we should get one of these," Dustin suggested.

Rowen took one look at the bear trap he pointed to, eyes nearly widening to the size of dinner plates. "No," she stated firmly.

Dustin's expression deflated. "But-"

" _Nooo_ ," she drawled, turning on her heel and walking down the aisle with the thirteen-year-old in tow.

They perused through the stacks of guns, hammers, nails, and many various supplies for nearly half an hour. Hunting & Camping, a near ghost town on the inside, echoed with the patter of their shoes and the sounds of their debates. Steve searched through as many aisles as he could, Dustin pointed at about every kind of torture device that he could possibly find, and Rowen rejected all of them.

As intimidating as Dustin's description of the Demogorgon they faced last year was, she was convinced that Dart couldn't have grown to that size so quickly. There was just no way. Which was why she figured anything such as a bear trap would be useless. And besides, it was... well, a _bear trap_. Rowen assumed they would be marching out of there with guns, packs of bullets and a net of some kind; depending on where they would be leading Dart and how they would be killing him.

But no.

Gasoline and buckets were what they walked out with; the last items she expected to buy from a store filled with weapons. Aside from the bear-trap. Steve paid for it anyway, hauled it into his trunk and coraled Dustin into his backseat anyway, making her hurry to the passenger side so they could get to the supermarket before noon broke.

Unlike the hunting store, Bradley's Big Buy was packed with any and every type of group from single mothers to groups of teens, parents with newborns and kids that were dragged by their dad's hands. Rowen watched all of them go in. And while she may have waited in the parking lot, she knew she wasn't the only one out of all these groups that stared at her two accomplices as they hauled pounds of meat into the car. She wasn't sure if anyone paid attention as they stared or if they just quirked a brow at piles of meat chunks being dragged along and went on as if nothing about it was weird.

Either way, she found herself as anxious as Hopper was when he went without coffee, hoping no one would be bold enough to approach them. She was eyeing bypassers like a hawk, a little too prepared to drive away anyone who might step a foot in their direction.

Rowen was still a mess of nerves, still coming to terms with the existence of another dimension, a pre-teen with superpowers, and the monster that they were currently on their way to hunt. And, as if to add to her pile, she was almost certain Hopper was missing. The few people they could reach out to were a no-show and, to act as the cherry on top of this very nerve-wracking cake, her dad was coming home in a few hours. She may not have looked it, but she felt as if she could snap at any given moment if the wrong words were said. Again... much like Hopper without coffee.

Dustin shut the back door and Steve jammed his key into the ignition. They drove away from downtown, past the arcade, past barren streets and one that supposedly led to Steve's house. They continued to idly roll down the concrete even as the houses began to thin out, giving way to a multitude of trees and open space. Eventually, Dustin pulled out a map from his backpack, one that was drawn on and crossed over roads, leading to blank spots that looked to be solely foliage. He leaned over her seat so she could see, pointing to marks and telling Steve to drift towards the curb. They coasted off of the main road, parking on a bumpier, gravel path that ended just at the forest edge.

To Rowen, they were in the middle of nowhere. To Steve, they were near the town border. But to Dustin... they were exactly where they needed to be.

"Are you sure this is a good place to start?"

"Positive. This is how we found the train tracks that lead to the junkyard last year."

"Wait... train tracks?" Rowen shut the car door. "Why didn't we just drive to those and start there?"

"Because they're in the middle of the forest," said Dustin. "Besides, Mirkwood is where Will disappeared last year. He said that that was where he first saw the Demogorgon. _Right there._ What better place to start a trail to _bait_ one?"

He pointed to the road that peered through the mess of trees and bushes.

"Hold on," Steve said. "Mirkwood? That's North Avenue."

"Yeah, but we also call it Mirkwood."

"Why do you call it Mirkwood?" asked Rowen.

"Because it's from _The Hobbit_."

"Wait... did you guys seriously name a road after that _Lord of the Rings_ shit?" Steve laughed.

"It's not _Lord of the_ _Rings_ , Steve. It's _The Hobbit_."

"What's the difference?"

"The _difference_ is that they're set in two entirely different points in time, okay. The-"

"Enough," Rowen groaned. "I don't know about you guys, but I'd like to get to the junkyard before it gets dark."

She moved from her place against the side of the car, digging in the trunk for one pair of the rubber gloves they had taken from Dustin's house. Steve followed suit, separating three buckets in his trunk before grabbing the bags of meat. She scrunched her nose as he opened it up. The meat was pungent, definitely enough to catch Dart's nose or mouth... Or whatever it was that sat where a face was supposed to be.

They set about the beginning of their plan, putting the gloves on, tossing the chunks into each pail. Dustin sidestepped to the backseat of the car, grabbing his backpack and pulling a headset from inside, securing the piece underneath his hat. Rowen brought each bucket of cow meat down to the gravel as they were filled. The tank of gasoline was plopped next to them.

" _Dustin!_ _Dustin, this is Lucas! Do you copy?_ "

Rowen paused in what she was doing. A voice emitted from his backpack, and she immediately pinned it as his walkie. Dustin did not hold back his mock surprise when he heard it.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is."

" _Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off_."

"Well, while you were having sister problems, Dart grew again. He _escaped_ and I'm pretty sure he's a baby Demogorgon!"

" _Wait... what?_ "

"I'll explain later. Just meet us at the old junkyard."

" _Us?_ "

"And bring your binoculars and wrist-rocket!"

" _Wait, you said '_ _us'. Who's us?_ "

"Just be there stat. Over and out."

Steve stuffed his own backpack with the tank of gas and the not-so spiky end of his bat. Rowen backtracked to the passenger side of the car, slinging her own bag over her shoulder. She had taken a practical approach in preparation for their monster hunt, packing a water bottle, an old camping spotlight, even the sorry excuse of a first aid kit she'd thrown under the sink on the off chance that one of them might get bitten or scraped... or worse. She didn't want to think about the possibility of any of them getting seriously hurt.

She stopped herself before that thought could go any further.

The trunk slammed shut. "Alright, let's go."

And so they picked up their buckets and set down the path Dustin jotted down for them to follow.

As they trecked through the crumpled grass and broken branches, Rowen began to understand why driving to the tracks wasn't an option. It was the middle of November, which meant the leaves fell in thick piles, wet and mixing with the dirt to make one mushy surface. At first, she thought there had to be _somewhere_ where a car could fit through. A place where the trees spread apart and gave way to the tracks, or a place where a road crossed over like some roads would in San Diego. But, as they journeyed further and further into the woods, she realized that Dustin wasn't exaggerating when he said they were in the middle of the forest. The trees were so close together that she was sure bikes couldn't even squeeze through in certain places, trunks almost intertwining, weeds spewing about and covering dips in the ground. Even walking was difficult... but was their only option. And they did a lot of it.

The trees never thinned out, and after what seemed like an age, the train tracks didn't seem any closer. She was starting to think Dustin had gotten them lost. He looked down at his crumpled map, made them go from one way to another many times over. At one point near the beginning, he pulled a small compass from his pocket, holding it under his thumb and looking at it when he was not referring to the map. But that didn't make her feel any more hopeful.

She was growing tired already and they hadn't even come close to the junkyard.

"Okay," Rowen sighed. "Are we getting any closer or are we just lost?"

"We're not lost. We're almost there."

"The train tracks aren't even on the map," Steve said. "How do you know we're close?"

"Just trust me, okay?" said Dustin. "We went this way last year and found the tracks no problem."

"And how long did it take you to find them last year?" Rowen asked.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because we don't exactly have all day, Dustin, okay? My dad is coming home in a few hours and if we get back well after dark, he won't believe that I just 'took a late shift'."

"But you work at the police station. Why wouldn't he believe that?"

"Because working late at a place that doesn't deal with a lot of business is a load of bull to him. That's why."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously."

"So... if you were working and it started to get dark, and there was no way you could leave, what would you do then?"

"I would _find_ a way to leave."

At that moment, she remembered the long and ultimately awkward conversation she had with Hopper when she first started. She wanted to change her hours... had no choice _but_ to, if she was being honest. Dinner was at six on the dot every night, and she told him that her dad was a stickler for all his children being seated at the dining room table before the clock read 6:00. Hopper didn't fold at first, thinking the reason ridiculous. She thought it was ridiculous, too, and he offered the option to give her dad the excuse that she was working. But he didn't know Neil Hargrove like she did. She didn't want him to, either.

No one deserved to know Neil Hargrove like his children did.

"Jeez," Dustin muttered. "Is your dad like super strict or something?"

Rowen huffed. "That's one way to put it."

"Okay," Steve butted in. "Forget about the strict parents on our tails for a second. If we're lost, we need to find another way to get to the tracks that won't take us all..."

He trailed off as all three of them came to a slow halt. The trees had finally thinned, giving way to a short dip in the ground that led to rusted metal.

Dustin turned to them with a triumphant smile.

"...day. Huh."

Rowen laughed, smiling at the sight of the tracks. She had forgotten all about the memory he had resurfaced. "Nice job, Dusty."

She ruffled the hat that covered his curls, continuing ahead of them, treading carefully down the dip and up to the rails, tossing a few pieces of meat as she went. From the woods, their trail merged onto the train tracks, more chunks being strewn atop the metal and the dirt. Their buckets got lighter, and Dustin occasionally checked his walkie to see if Mike or Will were near theirs. But the boys were still gone. They walked in silence for what seemed like another age before anyone said a word.

"Okay, I have to ask," said Rowen, turning to one of her yellow-gloved counterparts. "Why did you think Dustin and I were pranking you last night?"

Steve looked ahead, in front of Dustin where the tracks seemed to go on forever.

"I don't know," he shrugged casually. "I just figured he had some weird thirteen-year-old crush on you and wanted to impress you by helping you get back at me or something."

Never was there a face more worthy of the phrase "are you serious" than Rowens at that moment.

"It could happen," Steve said defensively, catching the look she gave him. "When he said you knew about what really happened to Byers last year, he didn't exactly give any context."

Rowen hummed. "Well, he may not have given you any context, but he told me Will was dragged into another dimension by a Demogorgon, that they found a twelve-year-old girl with superpowers and kept her in Mike's basement, that she killed said Demogorgon, then disappeared into thin air."

"Yeah, yeah. I know," he waved her off weakly. "He told you everything. I figured that out already... I don't know, I just... I thought that there might be a chance you wanted to get back at me somehow."

Rowen scrunched her nose. "No... No, I don't think so. That's not my style."

Steve smiled down at his Nike's.

"Listen, we agreed to let bygones be bygones," she added. "...And even though we agreed after the fact, I still wouldn't have done something like that."

"That's good to know," Steve muttered in relief, chucking a handful of meat behind them. "Anyway, I took the whole pranking thing back the minute I found that skin on the floor of his cellar."

"How come?"

"Because I know what Demogorgon skin looks like," he said a matter of factly.

A pause followed, the small plopping being the only noise to fill their ears.

"I'm surprised you believed him when he told you everything," said Steve, gesturing to Dustin who was now many feet ahead of them.

"Well, considering I got the monster first and then the explanation, it was kind of hard _not_ to believe him," Rowen said. "At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if unicorns were real, too."

"I'd take a unicorn over a Demogorgon any day."

"Me too." Rowen agreed wholeheartedly.

"Hey, Dustin," Steve called. "So, you said that you found this thing in your trash can... And you kept it because you thought it was cool."

Dustin threw back a confused glance. "Yeah?"

"Then why did you bring it to school?"

"Because I thought I found an entirely new species. I needed to show the party."

"Well, if you _needed_ to show them, then why didn't you just tell them to come to your house?"

"Because my house isn't where we meet."

"You couldn't have made it the place to meet that one time? You know, like... not risk a teacher finding that thing in your backpack?"

"No, I _had_ to bring it to school."

"Why?" Rowen asked, weaving her way into the conversation.

A pause followed.

"Dustin?"

He turned on his heel, stopping in his tracks. Rowen and Steve stopped, too.

"Okay... don't laugh at me, alright?" he all but pleaded. "I _did_ want the party to see it. But, I also brought to school because..."

He hesitated again.

"Dustin, just spit it out," Rowen pushed.

"Because I wanted Max to see it, okay?" he blurted.

A knowing look came across Steve's face, but Rowen just stared at their accomplice, bordering between amusement and surprise.

"Max?" she laughed. "Max, my sister?"

"Yes, Max your sister," said Dustin, turning back around to continue throwing meat onto the tracks. "She didn't like it anyway, so can we just forget about it?"

They resumed their walk. Rowen caught up with him, Steve trailing behind.

"Okay, hold on," Steve said. "So, let me get this straight... You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl, who... who you just met?"

"Okay, that is _grossly_ oversimplifying things."

"I mean, why would she like some nasty slug anyway?" he shrugged.

"Um, because it's an interdimensional slug? Because it's awesome?"

"Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn't, I just... I don't know. I feel like you're trying way too hard."

"Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?" Dustin protested.

"It's not about the hair, man. The key with girls is just... acting like you don't care."

Rowen's brow shot up at that. But she said nothing, continuing to walk and toss more meat to the ground as she trailed ahead of Dustin.

"Even if you do?" she heard Dustin ask. He fell behind, walking in step with Steve.

"Yeah, exactly. It drives them nuts."

"Then what?"

"You just wait till uh... till you feel it."

"Feel what?"

"It's like before it's gonna storm, you know? You can't see it, but you can feel it like this uh... Electricity, you know?"

Rowen would have facepalmed had she not been wearing gloves covered in meat juice. She settled for rolling her eyes.

"Oh, like in the electromagnetic field, when the clouds in the atmosphere-"

"No no no no no no no," Steve interrupted. "Like a... like a _sexual_ electricity. You feel _that_ , and then you make your move."

She couldn't help it. Rowen snorted, and it was loud enough to catch their attention.

"What?" asked Dustin.

"Nothing, it's... That is just the _dumbest_ thing I've ever heard," she laughed. "Take it from a girl who's _dumped_ guys like that. Okay, Dustin? It doesn't work."

She could practically feel Steve's offended glare on her back. "What are you talking about? Of course, it works."

Rowen stopped chucking meat, turning around to face the two, walking backward.

"Really?" she mused.

"Yeah," he said cooly. "I've dated a lot of girls using that method."

"And are you _still_ dating any of those girls?"

Steve opened his mouth, ready to throw back a smart remark so she would be the one to look like an idiot to the thirteen-year-old and not him. He said nothing, though. Of course, he wasn't dating any of those girls. He was dating Nancy... Or well, used to date. After last night, he knew she was granted a little more insight than she wanted. As if being forced to play along with his story in front of Mr. Wheeler wasn't an obvious example. She was just poking at his nerves. He knew that too... but he was silent for too long. Long enough for her point to be made.

"Mhm," hummed Rowen, bringing him back to reality.

He swallowed back a retort... but mustered enough effort to at least roll his eyes. She caught it.

"Hey, I'm no relationship expert," said Rowen, holding her hand up as she turned around once more. "I'm just proving a point."

"Well, what do you think he should do, then?" he challenged.

"No," Rowen shook her head. "No. I am not setting him up with my stepsister. No offense, Dustin."

"None taken," Dustin muttered, trying not to sound so forlorn.

"But hypothetically..." The words Steve's mouth before he could stop himself. "Hypothetically speaking, what advice would you give him?"

"Hypothetically?" Rowen laughed. _Hypothetically, I'm not going to tell you what my advice would be_ , was what she was going to say. But with the knowledge that neither of them had a clue...

"Hypothetically... I don't know. Maybe, have a normal conversation? Get to know a girl before making a move? Treat them with respect, you know? Like a lady, not a cardboard cut out of Phoebe Cates."

"Like a lady?" Steve echoed.

"Yes, like a lady," she snapped, craning her neck to shoot him a look. "Did I stutter?"

"No!... No, no stuttering there."

Dustin began to laugh under his breath, trying to play it off as a cough. He failed. Steve knocked off the hat on his head, leaving him to scramble to pick it up... but none of them ever said a word after that. They continued along their metal path, feet feeling heavier and buckets growing lighter with every few minutes that passed. The trio continued to follow the tracks until they too thinned out, melding into the dirt and giving way to an open field. With the sun bright above them, they could see dots of what they soon realized was the old junkyard Dustin spoke of.

Steve had long since placed his sunglasses over his eyes, unintentionally paying tribute to Rowen's nickname. But, when they stopped before the piles of scrap metal, broken down cars and junk of all kinds, he whipped the glasses off and nodded in approval.

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, this will do. Good call, dude."

Rowen affectionately shoved Dustin's shoulder, only making the smile that stretched across his face due to Steve's praise wider. From the canopy of trees which stretched out into tall brush, then flat earth, they led their trail of bait along, winding through the trash and the metal until they dumped the rest a few feet away from a bus. Dustin declared that their designated hideout.

"I said medium well!"

The trio looked up from their meat pile, two with plain curiosity... and one with absolute shock; the one being Rowen. The person she gaped at only returned the look with equal measure.

"Rowen?!"

"Oh, no," Rowen shook her head. "No no no. Absolutely not. What is Max doing here?!"

Dustin jumped back when she threw him a glare. "Don't look at me! Lucas must've brought her."

Rowen could barely contain her growing anger, dropping her bucket and ripping off her gloves. She all but stormed over to the pair, resembling the way Billy stalked to his siblings when one of them pushed the wrong nerve, or pushed him at all. The way she glared down at Max was a far cry from the way Billy did... but it was still as intimidating. And both Max and Lucas took half a step back.

"What are you doing here?" Rowen demanded.

"What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here?" Max fired back. "What's going on?"

"Oh, you know, just some good old-fashioned monster hunting because _someone_ let one loose."

" _HEY!_ " Dustin shouted, offended. "That's _not_ what happened and you know it!"

" _Monster hunting_?" Max questioned.

"Wait... who are you?" Lucas interrupted.

"Rowen," she answered. "She's my stepsister."

"Your stepsister?"

"Yes, her stepsister. Did you bring her here?" Rowen demanded of him.

Lucas gaped. "Uh- well, I..."

His hesitation was a clear 'yes'.

"Lucas!" Dustin called before his friend could utter another word. All three of them turned to face him. "Huddle. _Now_."

Cowering at her glare, Lucas hurried away from them, off with his friend to talk.

Max threw a look behind Rowen. "So... are you hanging out with Steve Harrington now?"

"What? No... no. It's not like that. I'm stuck with him if anything."

Max broke their stare with her mouth in an "oh". She looked away, crossing her arms and scuffing the bottoms of her sneakers against the dirt.

"Are you hanging out with Lucas now?" Rowen asked in return.

Max's eyes widened. Her gaze jerked back towards Rowen. "No! No... I mean, I came with him, but we're not... we weren't..."

"Max..."

"What?"

"It's fine if you were. I just wanna know why he brought you here."

Eyes now a little less wide, Max sighed. "I don't know. I mean, I came with him, yeah. But..." She shrugged, not looking very sure as to why she was there herself. "He said he had proof but won't tell me what it is."

"Proof?"

"Yeah, he told me this crazy story at the arcade yesterday about Hawkins Lab? Something called a Demogorgon got loose, and they had a friend that could move stuff with her mind. He said her name was Eleven," she explained. "I didn't believe him... But then he showed up at our house and said he could prove that he wasn't lying, so..." Max gestured her hands out towards the junkyard, then looked back to Rowen with a wary smile. "It's insane, right?"

Rowen opened her mouth... but then she closed it.

Max began to grow nervous. " _Right_?"

Rowen opened her mouth again, scrunching her nose. "Well..."

Max's hands uncrossed, flopping to her sides. "Don't tell me you believe them..."

"Well... yeah! It's kind of hard not to when a Demogorgon screeched in my face!"

"So... what? Those things are real?"

"Unless I'm having a super realistic dream right now? Uh, yeah. I'm pretty damn sure."

"Well, where did you see it? In the forest or something?"

"No. In Dustin's house."

"It was in his _house_?"

"Yes, and he had to tell me everything because it's some big secret that's being kept from the town, apparently."

"What did he tell you?"

"The same things. A girl with superpowers, another dimension, Will being dragged into this other dimension by a Demogorgon, Hawkins Lab chasing after them... They had to sign all these documents from the government that basically said they would pretend like none of it ever happened."

Max glanced over to the red car the boys were whispering behind. "So they're not insane..."

"Sadly for us."

Max looked over Rowen's shoulder again. "How does Steve know?"

"He was there, too."

"He was?"

Rowen snorted. "I know. Hard to believe."

She turned away, stuffing her hands in her pockets. The boys continued to whisper behind the car, only a hat peaking above from where they hid. Max went back to scuffing her shoes, looking this way and that, but when Steve threw yet another glance towards the sisters after the buckets dropped with a _clunk_ , Max shook her head.

"Okay, hold on. I'm confused," said she. "Did he apologize to you or something? Because you were yelling in his face three days ago."

"Oh, uh... yeah." Rowen glanced between the two, rubbing at her forehead. "We agreed to 'let bygones be bygones' as he said. So we can hurry up and trap this thing."

"So he didn't apologize to you?"

"No. He did."

"Really?"

"Yeah?..."

"Then what's his deal?"

"What are you talking about?"

"He keeps looking over here."

Rowen glanced over her shoulder. "Max, he's just looking."

"I could tell him to back off."

"Max..."

"Hey, I would enjoy it. I've been wanting to do that since Thursday."

" _Max..._ No one is telling anyone to back off, okay?"

Max raised her hands in surrender.

"Hey, guys! Or- girls! Uh... jeez..." Steve started out hollering, dissolving into mumbles on the other side of the junkyard. "We lose light in forty minutes. Let's get this done."

Rowen nudged Max's shoulder, making her walk ahead and down to where they dropped their bait.

"Guys, c'mon! Let's go!" she called, clapping her hands together.

"Alright, alright. We're going!"

Both boys appeared from the other side of their hiding spot.

"You. Bandana," Rowen pointed to Lucas, causing his eyes to widen once more. Dustin shied away from the stern look that, abandoning his friend to go help the others.

"It's Lucas."

"I know. I'm calling you 'Bandana" right now."

Rowen strolled up to him, biting her check and placing her hands on her hips. While she could have been misreading the entire situation, with the way Max's eyes popped out of her head, Rowen couldn't help but dread and feel a tad on edge over what was now lingering in her mind... Boys. Max and boys. And not just the 'buddy-buddy' Max-and-boys that meant outdoing them at the skatepark, but the 'Max and boys' that meant exactly what it meant when Dustin revealed that he wanted to impress her.

Rowen didn't like it. Max was only thirteen. She was hoping she would still have a year or two before she would have to deal with this.

"So, are you going to tell me why you brought her here, or what?"

"Okay... here me out," said Lucas, hands raised in defense. "I didn't know what we were walking into when I stopped by your house. Dustin just told me what you guys are doing."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

Lucas sighed, arms flopping to his sides. "I brought her here because I told her I had proof, okay?"

"Proof of... what, exactly? Dart being a Demogorgon? Of Hawkins Lab hiding some seriously messed up stuff?"

"All of it. She thought I was making it up."

"You told her another dimension exists, Lucas. Why wouldn't she think you were making it up?"

"You believed Dustin when he told you, didn't you?" Lucas argued.

"Yeah, because there was a full-blown Demogorgon in my face," Rowen snapped. "Max still thinks Dart is a little slug."

Lucas folded under her gaze, pretending to be interested in what the others were tossing into piles. Rowen exhaled, glancing over to the rest of their group as he had. Max was trying to pick up a piece of scrap metal almost as tall as her, Dustin was making sure it didn't fall on her, and Steve was making sure it didn't fall on Dustin.

"Listen," said Rowen. "I got thrown into this whole mess without a choice. Max didn't. And you dragged her into this because you... what? You wanted to prove something to her?"

"...Kinda," said Lucas sheepishly.

"Why?"

Lucas shrugged. "I don't know. We thought she was cool, you know? Dustin and I wanted her to be apart of the group. But our party has strict rules, and after everything that happened last year... one of them is knowing about the Upside Down."

"Is that why you told her? Because you wanted her to be apart of your group?"

"I mean... yeah. Basically. We kept having days where we needed to talk about it. And every time we started leaving, we had to come up with a reason why she couldn't come with us."

Rowen crossed her arms.

"We kinda treated her like garbage," Lucas added quietly.

"Sounds like it."

He flinched at her tone. "Guess you don't want her to be apart of the party after this, huh?"

Ironically, that got a chuckle out of Rowen. "Lucas, I barely know you," said she. "I barely know any of you. And it's not like this is the end all be all of screw-ups. Just don't do it again, okay? That's all I'm saying."

Lucas nodded earnestly. "Got it."

"Or if you are going to do it again, at least do it well. Bring some battle gear or something."

That got a smile out of him. Lucas went along with it, nodding once more. "Okay."

"Okay," Rowen echoed, nodding her head in the direction of the bus where the others were. They were still struggling with the scrap metal. "C'mon. Let's help them before they hurt themselves."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mike and nancy's conversation in " the bathtub " but make it max and rowen


	17. Monster Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry my chapter updates have been all over the place! college has been taking a major toll on me for the past few weeks and ive been trying to focus on my classes so my grades dont drop.

Rowen didn't realize how much she would regret doing this until it was too late to turn back.

Forty-seven hours too late, if she was keeping track. Which she wasn't. It just happened to be a piece of information sitting in the back of her mind... nagging her... rattling her insides to the point where she could physically feel her head begin to ache.

She didn't know why she was counting the hours when she couldn't change anything. She was already in too deep as it was. But that wouldn't stop her from regretting all that led up to this point.

That regret started with when she wandered into Dustin's room.

She wished she hadn't done that... really wished, now that she knew what it led up to. She was never that curious, so why was she then? Why was finding Mews so important? Did working at a police station have some kind of weird influence on her? Or was it just the pull she felt to help Dustin find his cat after being reminded of Speedy?

And when did she become willing to do stuff this _stupid_? When did she let Max get so close to stuff this stupid?

Never. That was when. She never did... up until now.

Now it was as if every bit of sense she had was knocked out of her all because she was introduced to too many things at one time... Too many impossible things which turned out to be _completely_ possible. She was rattled, for lack of better word. She couldn't tell which way was up and which way was down. She couldn't stop thinking about how they had to get rid of these impossible things.

The first thing that she heard after discovering it all was that they had to get rid of it. _Have to get rid of it. Have to get rid of it._ That's all she could think about then. And, forty-seven hours later, that was still all she could think about, aside from wondering what time it was every other minute.

"Rowen."

"Hm?"

"Stop looking at your watch."

"Sorry."

The only reason she wasn't stomping out of that bus right then and there was because of Dustin's badgering. From his abruptly loud, obnoxious comments that kept her in place and somewhat assuring answers to her questions, to the look he threw her at one point that said 'I may not do anything to you if you leave, but the government might'.

Truthfully, she had him to blame. He was the one pulling her along... But, at the same time, she kind of let him do it.

Rowen all but invited Dustin to drag her by the arm, drag her into their world of monsters and superpowers all because he made such a firm point about how she was suddenly apart of it. About how she knew everything now as if it was some super-secret club... which it kind of was, she guessed. She was, in a way, one of them now. Max was too. And it felt weird. And Rowen couldn't get them out of it. Now that she was sitting inside a rusted bus with three almost-teenagers and Steve Harrington, a trap set and waiting right outside their hideaway, she knew she couldn't change her mind just because an intense feeling of regret decided to show up _after_ they laid their bait and dug themselves in too deep to climb out.

She made her bed and now she had to lie in it. It was her decision, ultimately, and if they ever found Hopper, she knew he wouldn't blame a thirteen-year-old. He might blame Steve, maybe... who knows. But Rowen was the oldest out of this bunch. So, if anything happened to Max, if anything happened to any of them, it would be her fault. She knew that as well as she knew anything and she wasn't going to let it happen.

She may have lost all sense, let Dustin pull her along and made a decision she couldn't get out of, but she would be damned if she was the reason that any of them made it out with anything more than shaky hands.

"Rowen, seriously, stop looking at your watch. It's making me anxious."

She groaned out a deep sigh.

Rowen began to undo the strap around her wrist. She slipped it off in one easy motion, pushed herself up from where she sat and stalked to the front of the bus. The door was opened, and the piece was chucked out to the junkyard. She could no longer see it, but it landed to the ground with a thud. Returning to her self-made space, she sat with a thud as well.

"I didn't mean you had to get rid of it-"

"That's the only way I'm not going to look at it, okay?" Rowen told him, but his frown only deepened. "It's fine, Dustin. I didn't like it that much anyway."

Dustin still looked somewhat remorseful, but nodded, continuing to pace as he had done before.

"You know he's gonna be mad no matter what time we get back, right?" said Max. She adjusted in her seat on the opposite side of the bus, picking at the side of her shoe.

"I know."

Rowen had quietly grumbled her worries to Max before they all climbed into the bus, when the scraps were still being piled together. Neither of them had any faith that Billy would rat them out, and neither of them knew what they would say when they came home. He wasn't even aware of the fact that Max had left the house, to begin with. Their dad would demand an answer and she knew Billy would say he didn't know, which was why Rowen spent most of those two hours trying to concoct a lie that would save all three of their butts... Trying being the keyword. It was difficult to do anything with her heart pounding in her ears.

She was surprised she wasn't shaking feeling as nervous as she was.

"How long are we supposed to wait for this thing to show up anyway?" Max asked.

"Till he shows up," Dustin stated.

"So we could be here all night, basically..."

It wasn't a question, they all knew that. But Rowen knew the underlying meaning of Max's words, too. Words that said _My step-dad is going to grow two heads and scream at us with both of them if we come home at ass o'clock in the morning_.

"If that's what it takes," said Dustin, determined.

The stepsisters shared a wary glance.

"It's not going to take us all night." Steve was the one to answer this time, speaking with certainty as he flicked his Zippo open. "We know this thing likes meat, so we know it's going to take the bait... But we left a long trail. We just have to give it time to get here."

Max looked to Rowen for any reason to doubt what he said, but Rowen only gave her a grudging nod, and Max leaned further into her seat. She crossed her arms.

"So... you really fought one of these things before?" she asked Steve. He nodded. "And you're like... totally, one-hundred percent sure it wasn't a bear?"

Rowen sighed at Max's stubborn disbelief, frustrated. She didn't blame her, but Rowen figured that after telling Max twice, she would have given in by then. Seems she was wrong.

"Max I told you-"

"Shit. Don't be an idiot," Dustin snapped, cutting her off. "Okay? It wasn't a bear. Why are you even here if you don't believe us? Just go home."

Rowen all but expected Dustin to be cradling his nose or rubbing his cheek after barking at Max in the way he did... but Max never moved. Her arms stayed crossed and all she did was glare up at him with the familiar ' _excuse me?_ ' expression she would give Billy. And Rowen, albeit taken aback by Dustin, was a little proud.

Max rolled her eyes and stood, stepping towards the ladder. "Geesh. Someone's cranky. Past your bedtime?"

She climbed until she reached the top of the bus, disappearing from their sight.

"That's good. Show her you don't care."

Rowen's gaze snapped over to Steve. She felt for the nearest object, snatching an empty can, throwing it towards him. Steve jumped in his seat as it hit his arm, but saved himself from falling over in an ungraceful manner.

He gaped at her. "The hell was that for?"

"That was not _good_. Okay? What is with you and this 'acting like you don't care' crap?"

"What's with you and _throwing_ things at people?"

Steve brushed off his arm as if having a rusted can hit it was so offensive, Rowen rolled her eyes. The opening and closing of his lighter resumed and Dustin continued to pace, wandering back and forth with a blank look as if he had never even heard their short-lived bickering.

Rowen wondered if he did.

It was his lack of a reaction that made her look over to him eventually. His shoulders were hunched, his eyes downcast, and his face was set into a permanent frown. It made her frown, too.

"Dustin? You alright?"

"Yeah..."

She watched as he collapsed into the seat Max previously occupied, cutting his eyes at the opening above them. Rowen turned her gaze up to it as well, just barely catching the tips of Max's shoes. She was bobbing her feet.

Rowen pressed her lips in a thin line, looking back to Dustin. "You have to cut her some slack," she tried, head leaning back against the layers of metal they piled against the sides. "You guys have fought a Demogorgon, I've seen one. All she's done is taken our word for it."

"I know," he grumbled shyly. "I didn't mean to get in her face. I'm just nervous."

Rowen huffed. "That makes two of us."

She hadn't realized how the wind had not blown once since they all climbed into the creaking scraps of the bus until it did. It had been dead silent for the entire two hours they sat waiting, and she could hear every noise that broke it. From her own rapid heartbeat to Dustin's footsteps, Steve's lighter, Max picking at her shoes... she could even hear Lucas when he shifted on top of the bus. But, when the wind pierced through, howled as if it was alive, the sound filled her ears and blocked those other noises. She could feel the cold wiggle through the oversized sleeves of her sweater, prickle her skin and suddenly, she felt more like bait than the meat that sat outside.

And they were just sitting there. No true battle strategy with nothing but a makeshift fort and a plan that may or may not work. Rowen hated it, but somehow she knew she would feel worse if she moved, trying to do something else.

She leaned further into her seat as she shivered from the chill of the wind, trying to salvage some warmth.

"Cold?"

She looked over to see Steve smirking at her. Rowen scowled. "No, shit."

Dustin took notice of her shivering, too. "Bet you miss warm weather, huh?" he joked weakly.

"Are you kidding? I hate the heat. I'm just adjusting to Hawkins' version of cold, that's all."

"What's California's version?" Steve asked.

"Bearable," she grumbled. "That's what."

Dustin smiled, amused. "You're gonna have to adjust to Hawkins' version if you want to stay here."

"Oh, don't worry about me," said Rowen. "I don't plan to stay here for that long."

She seemed to have said the wrong thing. The bus went silent again, and Dustin's smile immediately fell. "...You don't?"

Her heart couldn't help but sink at his tone... but still, she shook her head. The disappointment was as plain on his face as it was when he saw Max arrive with Lucas. She glanced towards Steve, but he was looking at Dustin. For a moment she thought he looked disappointed, too.

Rowen shifted uncomfortably. "It doesn't have anything to do with you guys," she assured Dustin, attempting to lighten the suddenly downhearted mood. "I just never wanted to leave to begin with."

"Then why did you?" he asked.

He was genuinely curious, she could see that, but she shifted again. "...It's a long story."

Seems it wasn't enough of an answer to satisfy him. "Did your dad's job relocate or something?"

Rowen shook her head. "No."

"Did he doing something illegal?"

"No, Dustin..."

Steve resumed the opening and closing of his Zippo, intervening. "What about your mom-"

"She's not-..." Rowen cut herself off before her voice could raise, pausing, breathing deeply. Dustin flinched at her tone, Steve looked expectant. She looked down at her hands. "She's... she's not my mom," she said firmly, shaking her head again. "I know I've been calling Max my sister, but she's my stepsister. Susan is my step-mom."

It still felt like she was saying the wrong thing... or maybe not enough.

"Listen, she's... She's not a terrible person or anything. But she's pushy and whiny, and she's been trying to replace my mom for the last seven years, and... and my dad made us move because he hated her ex-husband as much as she did."

"Your dad moved you across the country for that?" Dustin asked, unable to believe it. "My mom and dad are divorced, too, but it's not like he can't live in the same state."

Rowen huffed. "Yeah, well... my dad's a little territorial. And Susan exaggerates." She began to rub her wrist as if the bruise was still there. It had all but disappeared now, a small, faded splotch of green that she could barely see after a week. It didn't hurt anymore, either, but she was grazing her fingers over it as if it did. As if talking about her dad and Susan made that place throb again. "She didn't even hate him for a good reason. They just... didn't get along, you know? Typical reasons for getting a divorce."

"Then what made it so bad to where your dad decided to move so far?"

She shrugged. "He couldn't stand the idea of Max visiting her dad all the time."

"What do you mean?" Steve pipped up.

"It's this thing called joint custody," Dustin answered for her. "My parents did that when they first divorced. I used to visit my dad every couple weeks."

"Yeah, I know what joint custody is, Dustin," Steve said. "Tommy's parents are divorced."

A beat passed.

"It doesn't matter what it means, honestly. It didn't last for very long," said Rowen, rubbing at her eyes. "Like I said, Susan hated him... I don't even know how she did it, but she got sole custody. Max wasn't allowed to see him anymore, either."

"What did he do?" Dustin asked.

Rowen laughed dryly. "Nothing... Susan just didn't want her to be around him."

The silence lasted long enough for them to hear the wind return. It shook the bus and Steve flinched, immediately pushing himself up to look out the window. Dustin was on high alert, Rowen shivered again... but when the sudden wind ceased to a breeze, he relaxed back into his seat, as did Steve.

"Wait... I don't get it," Dustin said after a minute of thinking. "If Max wasn't allowed to see him anymore, then what was the problem?"

"The _problem_ was that Max kept sneaking out to see him anyway," Rowen told him. "But he lived like two hours away, so... I always went with her."

"You took her?"

She nodded. "I thought we could get away with it. She hadn't seen him in over a year at that point and I just... I don't know. I felt really bad. And her dad was nice. That's why I kept taking her."

"But?"

"But my dad caught us, eventually... and he lost it. There was a 'for sale' sign in our yard about a week later."

Steve and Dustin exchanged a look. The wind blew again.

"It's my fault," she thought aloud. "That we're here."

"How could it be your fault?" Steve asked. "So what? You took Max to see her dad. That's not a crime."

"It was a crime to my dad," she said gravely. "And Max's dad still could've gotten in trouble because of what I did. Susan could've pressed charges against him if she wanted."

"Did she?" Dustin asked

"No," said Rowen. "I talked her out of it."

He hesitated, messing with his jacket sleeves. "...What'd you do?"

Rowen bit her lip. "...I owned up to it," she said plainly. "I got in deep-shit trouble, but I owned up to it."

"You took the blame?"

She shrugged. "I had to. Besides, it's not like I was totally innocent. I _did_ help her sneak out."

"Yeah, but it's not your fault," Dustin insisted. "You were just being nice."

"Yeah, and look where my 'being nice' got us-"

She could barely finish her sentence before a roar all but rattled the bus they sat in. Steve jolted this time, Dustin stood immediately... and Rowen, albeit startled, soon crossed to the other side of their hideaway. She put herself between the two boys, all of them peeking through the grated opening. Through their tiny window, she could see that, along with the wind, came a heavy fog, unsettling, appearing out of nowhere.

Rowen noticed a lot of things tended to appear out of nowhere in Hawkins. In the forests, in people's houses. Maybe that was just how the town was... or maybe she was right, thinking they were in the makings of a horror movie setting. All they needed was a monster... and she wondered if _their_ monster was about to appear.

"Do you see it?"

"No..."

"Lucas!" Dustin called. "What's going on?"

"Hold on!" Lucas shouted. They waited. "I've got eyes!" he shouted again. "Ten o'clock! T-ten o'clock!"

Steve pointed between the holes they peered through at a figure a few yards away. "There."

The silhouette she squinted at was blurred by the fog, barely visible from where they stood, hidden from it. At the very least, she could tell that it was an animal... but Rowen knew without a shadow of a doubt that that silhouette belonged to what they had been waiting all night for.

And she shuddered when it began to move.

"What's he doing?" Dustin asked.

She could see Steve shake his head from the corner of her eye. "I don't know."

"It's just standing there," she observed quietly. "Why is it just standing there?"

"It's not taking the bait," he muttered.

"I thought you said it would?"

"I did- I thought it would, but..."

"Maybe he's not hungry?" Dustin offered.

"Maybe he's sick of cow..." Steve offered in return.

A heavy beat passed as he exchanged a look with Rowen.

She gulped, glancing between the two. "So, uh... w-what do we do? What do we do now?"

She never received an answer to her question. Steve backstepped away from the window without saying a word, catching her attention when the bus creaked under his shoes. She turned around to see what he was doing, but all he did was stand there, still staring out their little window.

"What?" she asked, wondering if she was missing something he had picked up.

Steve's gaze shifted to her, but he said nothing. When he grabbed his bat from the other side of the bus, he caught Dustin's attention, too.

"Steve? Steve, what are you doing?" he asked. Nothing. Dustin poked at her arm. "What's he doing?"

Rowen cast him a sideways glance, but she never said a word, either... until Steve tossed her his Zippo, and suddenly she realized just exactly what he was doing.

She gaped at him, then the lighter in her hands, then at the junkyard, then at him again. "You're an idiot. Like truly, completely an idiot."

"So I've been told," he said flatly. "Just be ready."

Steve marched towards the front before either of them could protest, bat gripped tightly. The door screeched under his touch, not at all quiet, not at all discreet. She supposed it didn't matter, though. Not when he was using himself as bait.

Bringing attention to himself was the idea.

Both she and Dustin rushed back to the window, peaking through the grate, waiting... Steve took his time to step away from the bus. He was hesitant and she didn't blame him for it. If he changed his mind and decided to come back inside, she wouldn't blame him for that either. But he didn't. Steve kept going.

He began to whistle at the creature as if he was calling a lost pet, bat swinging back and forth in his hand like a pendulum.

She exhaled a long breath, mumbling, "I swear to God if he gets eaten..."

"He won't."

Now Rowen was gaping at Dustin. "Dustin, he's literally offering himself as monster food-..."

"What's he doing?" she heard Max ask from behind her, descending the ladder with loud steps.

Rowen and Dustin opened their mouths at the same time.

"Being an idiot."

"Expanding the menu."

Max came up to Rowen's left, peeking through the grated window herself.

Steve was still swinging his bat, whistling, treating the Demogorgon like it was a wary dog not so trusting of the food or the person that sat in front of it.

Then his whistling stopped.

"C'mon, buddy," they heard him try. "Dinner time. Human tastes better than cat. I promise."

That was when Max mentally caught up with the other two, realizing. "He's insane," she stated.

"He's awesome." Rowen heard Dustin object giddily.

The wind chose this time to blow again. It whistled softly, but it was strong enough to cause the fog to move faster than it had been on its own. The mist which covered the ground parted... and the silhouette was no longer just a silhouette.

They already knew what was coming. Rowen expected to see Dart. But when the fog cleared... it revealed something much more horrifying. Dart was indeed what they saw. He looked relatively the same; still no face, still all leathery and hunched. His tail still twitched as it did when he was devouring Mews. Only... now he was three times bigger, and it was intimidating as hell.

She could hear him growl from where they hid. It was a sound that ran shivers up her spine, and probably always would.

How Dustin, Lucas, the other boys, and Eleven put up with one that was _even bigger_ , nevermind one they all faced head-on at some point... she could not comprehend. If anything she applauded their bravery.

At the same time, she couldn't help but scold herself for hiding while Steve was practically inviting Dart to eat him... But what exactly was it that she was supposed to do?

"Steve! Watch out!" Lucas's sudden shouts startled them.

"I'm a little busy here!" Steve shouted back.

"Three o'clock! Three o'clock!"

Lucas was warning him. Rowen tried peering into the darkness, where he implied something else stood waiting. She squinted, looking through the piles of junk and broken down cars, trying to spot something, _anything_ that was moving... Then her eyes widened. "Oh my god..."

There, propped on top of one of the cars, was another Dart. Two more crouched low to the ground next to it, and they all had their sights set on Steve. There were _three_ more of them.

"Wait- there's more of them?!" Max questioned, shocked.

"Where the hell did they come from?" Dustin thought aloud.

Rowen began to shake her head, stepping away from where they watched. Steve was going to get himself killed. She all but bolted to the front of the bus, yanking open the door handle.

"Steve!" she shouted. "Get back! Now!"

Dustin practically clambered over to her side. "Abort!" he yelled. "Abort!"

But Steve wasn't listening.

He took notice of the other creatures behind him. With his bat raised defensively, his head jerked around, looking at one, looking at the other, looking between them as they all wheezed out inhuman growls.

None of them moved, not until the one who appeared first suddenly screeched, face opened up to display an array of teeth. It charged, and Steve made a break for it. He dodged it, running, then rolling over the hood of one of the cars as another pounced and missed. Steve whacked the last which lunged his way as if it had been a baseball. It flew back in the same manner, and that was when she and the kids began to shout again.

Max and Lucas joined them by then, and they all shouted for Steve to hurry, jump back into the safety of the bus.

This time, he bolted.

Steve hurled himself inside the bus, the door was yanked closed, Rowen was knocked back into the front seat. Max held onto the side, holding her hand in a death grip. Lucas stood beside Max, Dustin almost fell into Rowen's lap, but he pushed himself back up. Steve sat in front of all of them, hurriedly reaching for a sheet of metal to cover the door as the multiple Darts rammed themselves against it, trying to break the glass.

"Holy shit!" Dustin cursed.

"Are they rabid or something?!"

"They can't get in!" Lucas shouted frantically. "They can't!"

But his assurances weren't so assuring.

Just as he blurted out the words, the bus jolted roughly, tilting backward almost as if it was about to topple over. They all screamed to some degree, clinging to either the bus or each other as the entire thing was pushed one way, then falling back the next. Rowen now knew how the fish she won at the carnival felt when she wrestled against a seven-year-old Billy, trying to keep the bowl she put her beloved fish in from falling off of the kitchen counter.

The Darts- Demogorgons... whichever it was, she could hear how they roughly threw themselves against their hideaway. Whether rocking them back and forth to see if it would make them fall out or trying to shake off the layers of scrap metal they piled up around it... they were doing _something_. She just wished she knew what it was so she knew what _she_ had to do... But she didn't have enough time to think.

Steve's feet slipped off of the sheet of metal they were holding against the door and a clawed hand immediately burst through.

They screamed again.

"Move, now! Go!" Rowen shouted, ushering the three kids away from the front to a safer space. They bolted to the back of the bus, hiding behind the seats. Rowen positioned herself behind the ladder in front of them.

Dustin grabbed for his headset. "Is anyone there?! Mike! Will! GOD! ANYONE!"

Claws pierced through the back and the kids stumbled.

"Guys back away! Now!" Rowen ordered, waving them towards her.

All three scrambled over to her sides, Lucas and Dustin near the window while Max stepped past her, gripping onto the ladder. Rowen's heart was pounding furiously, so much that it was tough to breathe. She was shocked she was even moving, with the way terror usually seemed to freeze her, keep her feet planted wherever she stood.

Steve was still near the door, vigorously whacking at the Demogorgon which had broken through. Max was trying not to panic, Lucas had gone mute, and Dustin was still yelling into his headpiece.

"We're at the old junkyard," he continued, attempting to calm himself down so he could speak clearly. "And we are going to die!"

Loud booms had a knack for showing up as the boys finished their sentences. Another came from the top of the bus, and it made both her and Max jerk around, staring wide-eyed at the front... but it seemed they were the only ones to catch it. It was only when the booms grew louder... closer... that the boys stopped as the stepsisters had. Max was frozen, all but attached to the ladder with Rowen right behind her. Lucas and Dustin planted themselves like statues.

Now she was sure they were in a horror movie... because she quickly realized that the booms were footsteps, and they were approaching the opening above them, left wide and unguarded. Did she dare look up?

She did... and so did Max, who was but a few feet away from the nightmarish creature now above them. It stalked to them like a cat would, grabbed at the top of the ladder with one clawed hand and craned its head down, gurgling the way Dart did when Rowen first found him.

Staring it in the eye pushed Max from panicked to terrified.

She screamed louder than she ever had, and Rowen's instincts kicked into high gear. She grabbed Max by the arm and wrapped her own around her shoulders, pulling her back while Steve appeared from the front just as she did so.

"Out of the way!" he ordered. "Out of the way!"

He pushed both of them behind him with one hand, holding the bat towards the Demogorgon with the other.

Steve stared the monster in the eye, pointing the spiked bat in the face of the thing they were supposed to kill, but was now attempting to kill them.

"You want some?! Get this!" he shouted. The Demogorgon roared in his face relentlessly and for a second, Rowen feared that they were about to watch the thing snatch Steve up, tear him to pieces and then come for the rest of them. It made her grip around Max tighten.

But the roaring suddenly stopped, and the creature looked away. Its attention was taken by something else... a sound... another roar, she concluded. It stepped off of the ladder, back onto the roof and roared again, but it no longer roared at them. She couldn't see it as its feet tapped lighter against the roof, but the Demogorgons soon leaped off of the bus, jolting it as they had done when they threw themselves into it.

The noises stopped, the roars stopped... She no longer heard any inhuman growls or booms made by them, but her rapid heart beat rang loud and clear. Were they gone? They were off the bus, she knew that at least.

Her grip around Max lessened just a little, her eyes scanned the one window, out to the junkyard for any sign of them. She couldn't see anything.

"You okay?" she asked Max quietly.

Max nodded. "Yeah... you?"

"Yeah..." Rowen turned to the boys. "Dustin?"

"Y-yeah, yeah... I think so."

"Lucas?" Rowen's hand just barely grazed his shoulder, but Lucas flinched a good two inches away, only registering the fact that it was her when he looked her in the eye.

He nodded, too. "Yeah, uh... Yeah, I'm okay."

Rowen only found the will to breathe normally again after they all nodded their heads. She took in a few deep breaths, letting Max free of her grip, stepping in front of them to stand next to Steve.

He looked as confused as all of them did, but he was still on edge, gripping the bat so hard that his knuckles went stark white.

"What just happened?" she tried, staring out the grated window once again.

Steve shook his head weakly. "I don't know..." His voice was hushed as if speaking normally would bring the Demogorgons back.

They both decided to walk towards the front of the bus at the same time, all three kids following slowly but surely behind them. Rowen assumed that Steve had beaten the one so much that she would find a limp body at the steps, but nothing was there but small pieces of the same sticky skin that sat in Dustin's cellar.

They stepped over it, and Steve pushed at the door, slowly and as steadily as he could.

Once it got to a certain point, the door jerked open with a _POP!_ and Steve jerked, pausing. But he soon stepped out, onto the dirt to see where the Demogorgons had gone... if they had gone anywhere.

Turns out they had. Rowen just barely caught sight of their tails before they disappeared back into the fog, running away from them.

But, even with that certainty, she didn't move from the steps of the bus. Rowen stayed planted where she was, and the kids peeked around her shoulders.

"What. Happened?" Lucas asked.

"Did Steve scare them off?" Dustin wondered aloud.

"No... No way," said Steve, turning around the look at all four of them. "They're going somewhere."

Now Rowen was shaking... After all the tossing and screaming and hearing those words... now she couldn't keep her hands steady. It was as if her body only realized and reacted to what was happening two minutes later than it should have.

Rowen didn't feel safe, not at all. She still felt like they were treading on thin ice even though the four Darts no longer tried to knock them out of the bus.

She stepped off of the bus anyway, found the courage to detach herself from it. The kids immediately did the same, quickly leaving yet still sticking close to her sides as if doing so somehow made it safer.

"So, what do you think? Should we follow them?" Lucas asked them tentatively.

"Follow them?" Max gaped. "You realize we were almost eaten, right?"

The two fell into a fit of bickering. Dustin attempted to be the mediator between them... but, eventually, he too fell into the bickering. And, despite being in the middle of it, Rowen didn't have enough energy to try and stop them.

Steve turned to face them. "Hey, guys," he tried, but they kept throwing hollow quips at each other. "Guys..." he tried again. "GUYS!"

The three startled when he resorted to shouting, falling in line like soldiers under their captain or a band of misfits under their leader. Steve waved a hand at them like he was one. "Listen, we're not just gonna blindly follow these things. Okay? One, that's stupid considering what just happened and two, we don't have any kind of game-plan to follow."

"So we come up with one!" Lucas countered.

"Rowen, what do you think?"

Her head snapped to Dustin who, until that moment, was the only one that had been looking at her. But now they all were, waiting, looking at her expectantly as if somehow her opinion mattered so much all of a sudden. Rowen could understand why Max looked at her this way. Max had come to her for her opinion God knows how many times in the past... But to have all of them do that?

Rowen's mouth fell open. "I don't know, guys," she told the kids, giving them all wary glances. "Steve has a point. I mean, we came here so we could kill that thing. But now there's like, what? An entire pack of them?"

"It's not like we're gonna try and kill one again."

"Dustin, I realize that but-..." She licked her lips, trying to wrack her brain for the right words. "I just think we need to be a little smarter."

Both he and Lucas gave her blank stares.

She sighed out a groan. "Okay, listen, I wanna know where they went, too, but... I think, if we're going to follow them, we should at least go back to the tracks. Okay? It's pitch black out here and yes, we have flashlights, but it's probably better we follow something that's gonna lead us back to town instead of trying to find our way through the forest."

No one protested.

Rowen looked between all four of them. "Okay?"

She received three nods.

"Let's go, then," Steve announced.

Once her bag was retrieved from the bus, they made their way back, following the same path of which three of them came.

There was an odd way to how the forest branched apart, the way it thinned out and gave way to the junkyard. Somehow Rowen didn't notice when the sun shone above them. With the stars now in the sky, it looked like a gateway... a shriveling, withered, gateway which once looked safe but now looked uninviting.

Vines curled upwards, sprouted from the ground with the tree roots intertwined... It all twisted and curved before them, grew out from the canopy of trees and blocked the harsh end of the tracks as if saying _do not enter_. It was an unwelcome feeling. Rowen felt like they were walking into someone else's territory, invading someone else's space...

They went in anyway, walked over the vines and the roots, sticking close together with their flashlights splayed out against the dead trees. Rowen didn't regret bringing the camping spotlight which took up most of the room in her bag. When she turned it on it almost made the dark in front of them not seem so dark anymore... It didn't lessen the feeling of freely walking into some sort of danger, but it at least gave some comfort.

She was still waiting for something to jump out at them, though, which was why her light stayed glued to the brush.

For the first five minutes they walked down the tracks, Rowen and Dustin argued who would bring up the rear. Rowen wanted to be smart, Dustin wanted to- though he wouldn't admit it -be seen as brave... In the end, Rowen won. With Steve's help, she convinced him to walk in front with Max and Lucas... though he ended up walking ahead of them, thinking that leading the group would be as equally brave.

Max stayed the closest to her when they started, continuously looking over her shoulder, trailing towards Rowen's side. Had she not been forced to walk ahead, Rowen was sure she would have gripped at her arm if she had the chance... But Max only looked down at her shoes, staying quiet for a while.

Rowen rarely knew her to be that scared... The times when she was being times neither of them wanted to relive. But if she was being honest, now- despite happening for a whole other reason -was no different. She did not and would never want to relive being two seconds away from turning into monster food.

As Rowen did herself, Max eventually relaxed, walking in step with Lucas and throwing multiple questions towards Dustin. Rowen felt a little better seeing it, noticing how her shoulders were no longer tense. Having the crunch of their shoes muffled out by the kid's voices was another reason for her steady breathing... But, while she appreciated that, she wished they would do anything but argue.

"You're pretty good at this, you know."

Rowen threw Steve a look. "Pretty good at what?"

He shrugged. "All of it." He pointed between Lucas and Dustin. "You got those two to stop arguing like fifty times, you got Max to stay even though she didn't believe us. You came up with the idea of baiting Dart... You made pretty much every decision, really."

Rowen quirked an unconvinced smirk at the last one. "I think you're reaching a little..." she said. "And we _both_ have been the decision-makers, just saying."

Steve huffed. "Yeah, you've been making all the smart decisions while _I_ offered myself as bait."

"And that makes me good at this?"

"I mean, you're keeping the Brandy Bunch over here in line without losing it. That's gotta count for something."

Rowen looked away from him, smiling a little. She actually liked that nickname for the three in front of them. It was fitting.

"You're keeping them in line too, you know," she told him.

Steve huffed. "I'm trying..." he grumbled.

A moment passed.

"Oh, by the way..." Steve dug his hand into his jacket pocket. "I found this." He held out her watch, face a little smudged from the dirt it was pressed into. "I'm surprised I didn't step on it when Dart and all his buddies were coming at us."

Rowen opened her mouth, taking it from him. "Thanks," she said, smiling reluctantly. The piece was dropped into her now spacious bag. "I was kind of beating myself up for throwing it out of the bus."

"What, was it a family heirloom or something?" Steve tried joking lightly.

Rowen looked at the dead leaves and trees around them. "No, it was my mom's."

Steve went quiet. He turned away, focusing on keeping an eye out for Dart, the possibility that he or more than one of those Demogorgons might jump out at them. "Did she give it to you?" he thought aloud.

Rowen wasn't exactly hesitant. She was going to answer, it just didn't come to her automatically. But in the time she spent thinking, Steve realized he had voiced his thoughts rather than keep it to himself, and it made him shake his head. "Right. Sorry," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No more questions."

Rowen was the one to shake her head this time. "No, it's fine it-..." she trailed off abruptly, glancing ahead at the three in front of them. "It's just-..." She cut herself off again. Rowen couldn't think at all with the kids' conversation being so loud. Arguing had been their faithful companion for the last twenty minutes, but Dustin and Lucas's voices were escalating this time. And Rowen found it hard to talk over. Frustrated, she sighed. "It's just these three are too _loud_ , Jesus..." she said. "Guys, what are you arguing about now?"

"About how Dart can molt more than once a day," Dustin said.

"He _can't_ molt in one day," Lucas pressed. "There's no way he can grow that fast."

"Malt?" Steve questioned, squinting.

"No, _molt_. As in molting," Dustin corrected sharply. "It's when an animal sheds old skin to make room for new growth. Like hornworms."

"When's Dart gonna molt again?" Rowen asked.

"It's gotta be soon," said Dustin. "When he does, he'll be fully grown, or close to it... And so will his friends."

"Yeah, and he's gonna eat a lot more than just cats," Steve chimed in.

"Wait, a cat?" Lucas grabbed Dustin's arm, stopping him along with the rest of the group. "Dart ate a _cat_?"

Dustin shook his head. "No, what? No..."

"What do you mean 'no'?" Rowen questioned. "He ate Mews. We buried him yesterday."

"Mews? Who's Mews?" Max asked her.

"Dustin's cat."

"ROWEN!-..." Dustin shouted.

"I knew it!" Lucas exclaimed. "You kept him!"

"No! No... No, I-..." Dustin stuttered over his words, repeating himself. They all gave him the same look, and he gave up with a sigh. "He missed me," he tried. "He wanted to come home."

"Bullshit!"

"I didn't know he was a Demogorgon!"

"Oh, so _now_ you admit it?"

"Wait, if you didn't tell him about Mews, then how the hell did you explain how I got involved in all of this?" Rowen asked Dustin, interrupting their banter.

"He told me you saw Dart in the forest before _conveniently_ running into him," Lucas informed her angrily.

"Guys, who cares?" Max tried reasoning. "We have to go."

"I care!" Lucas burst. "He put the party in jeopardy. He broke the rule of law."

"SO DID YOU!" Dustin yelled.

A few more seconds and Max was arguing, too, as they had at the junkyard. The three turned into a little circle of banters and shouts and once more, they were defending themselves, defending whatever the hell it is they were doing or had done. It was beyond the point of aggravating, but Rowen was beyond the point of trying to defuse it. She sighed through her nose, dragging her light along the brush to her left. The kids arguing continued to be the only noise, and their group continued to be the only ones occupying the forest. It was empty, apart from them and maybe a few animals that weren't already scared off by the loud voices.

If they were there, she couldn't hear them... but after a moment, Rowen began to hear something else. Something far off. She looked to her right, shining her camping spotlight towards an incline. She heard the noise again, listened... It sounded like a roar.

Gaze still on the piles of leaves and tree branches, Rowen tapped at Steve's arm repeatedly before walking off of the tracks. She didn't look to see if she dragged his attention away from the argument taking place. Her shoes crunched, and the sound came again... It was louder this time, but even as Steve came to stand to her left, the arguing continued.

"Hey, guys..." She heard him say. Dustin and Lucas only got progressively louder. "GUYS!" Steve shouted.

They stopped, looking at him attentively, shutting their mouths. The roars came again. They heard it this time, and when they did, Lucas and Dustin jumped into action, following her and Steve... But Max stayed put.

"Hey- guys, why are you headed towards the sound?" she asked.

Rowen ignored her question, ushering her along. "Max c'mon!" She only gave Rowen a wary look, but Rowen's stare hardened. " _Max_..."

The thirteen-year-old groaned, reluctantly following. They trailed upwards until the incline stopped, walked until they reached the edge of what she realized was a large hill. She couldn't see where they were or anything to tell her one way or the other... but being able to see the skyline of Hawkins was evidence enough. They were way outside of town.

"I don't see them," Dustin said amidst the faint roars.

Lucas lifted his binoculars, searching...

"It's the lab," he eventually said. "They were going back home."

Rowen shuddered. Home?... How many of those things were they keeping in that lab? Tens? Hundreds?

Without a word, they decided to slowly trek down the hill, inching closer towards the lab and closer towards what Rowen was hoping wouldn't be sitting there waiting for them.

Now that she had her watch back, she could say it took them maybe fifteen minutes to get to Hawkins Lab. As if her feet weren't already tired, by the time they got close to the entrance, they were aching. And although it made her want to slow down, that wasn't why she suddenly chose to stop. Two heads bumped into her back.

"Ow!"

"Hey! What-..."

Rowen squinted, ignoring Max and Dustin. "Is there a car down there?" she asked quietly, as if whoever owned the car would hear her if she didn't.

Steve took a step forward, shining his flashlight forward. "Yeah...," he said, spotting the vehicle too.

"Someone else is at the gate?" Lucas asked from behind them.

"Who is it?" Max asked.

"I don't know," Steve answered. He continued forward, towards the entrance where the brush parted. They all stepped over a few more vines, a few more rocks, walked around a few fallen branches... Then the trees began to thin, and that was when she saw the faint image of two people.

"Hello?" One called. "Who's there?"

Rowen and Steve kept marching forward with the kids in tow, walking out of the forest, onto a poorly cut side lawn. Their flashlights no longer made it difficult to see who stood before them, and when they finally saw who it was...

"Steve?" The pair said in unison.

It was then that Rowen finally recognized their faces... and she became confused. What were Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers doing at Hawkins Lab?


	18. Reunions

Both groups stared open-mouthed, marching towards one another with equal shock.

"What are you doing here?" Nancy asked incredulously.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Steve asked in return.

"We're looking for Mike and Will."

Rowen threw a glance at the lab. "They're not in there, are they?"

Nancy's gaze landed on her. "...We're not sure," she told her hesitantly. Her wary expression was immediately replaced with confusion, and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Oh, uh, Rowen," she introduced. "Rowen Hargrove."

Nancy's expression became a little less confused and a little more wary. "Hargrove? As in-"

"She's Billy's sister," Jonathan told her, directing the confusion on her face from Rowen to him.

"How do you know that?" Steve asked, suddenly dumbfounded.

"We met already," Rowen clarified. "On Halloween."

And then Nancy's expression changed again, now inching towards confusion mixed with something else. "Wait... weren't you at Tina's party?"

"Yeah," said Rowen, a smile awkwardly sitting on the corners of her mouth as she relived that night. "I, uh... ran into you in the bathroom."

"She helped me get you out to my car," Jonathan explained quietly. A lie, really. Rowen only helped her down the stairs after Steve all but bolted, and she knew Jonathan knew that. But she figured he was trying to save them from more uncomfortable memories and, honestly, was thankful for it... because Rowen, albeit normally sliding into conversations with ease, felt uncharacteristically awkward.

She nodded at Jonathan's words and they let the realization dawn on Nancy's face. She shifted uncomfortably, looking between Rowen and Steve. "Oh, well... Does she-...?"

"Know about the Demogorgons?" Rowen finished, sporting a tight-lipped smile. "...Yeah."

Both Jonathan and Nancy's eyes widened.

"But-... wait, how did you even find out?" Jonathan asked, sounding as flustered as Nancy looked.

"Dustin, you wanna take this one?" Steve turned to the kid before she could answer.

Dustin's head shot up like a bottle rocket. "What? Why me?"

"Dude, it's pretty obvious."

"Oh, what?" Dustin snapped at him defensively. "Just because she found a Demogorgon in _my_ house when I wasn't there, that means I have to explain everything?"

"Yeah, it kinda does."

"There was a Demogorgon in your house?" Nancy questioned. She went ignored.

"No, it doesn't!" Dustin argued.

"Dustin, you were pretty much the one who got us all into this," Lucas said.

"I was not!"

" _Guys_..." Rowen tried, but she went ignored, too. They began to bicker again, for the thousandth time, as far as she knew. Maybe Steve was right when he said she stopped them arguing a good fifty times. It certainly felt like fifty.

Speaking over them rarely worked and she didn't want to shout at them again. So, Rowen took a page out of Steve's book, clicking her flashlight on and shining it in their faces, making them stop.

"Hey!"

"OW! Rowen!"

She clicked the light off. "Are you done?" she asked firmly. Dustin and Lucas clamped their mouths shut, Rowen turned back to Nancy and Jonathan. "Listen, I tutor Dustin. I went to his house on Friday and instead of finding _him_ , I found one of those things in his room eating his cat."

"Yeah, and you totally freaked out."

"Shut up," Rowen snapped at him, but it was hollow, and all three of the kids grinned. "Anyway," she continued, tossing her hands up slightly. "Dustin explained everything to me, including what happened last year. Giant Demogorgon and all."

"But now there's more of them," said Dustin.

"More of them?" Jonathan echoed, growing nervous. "What, you mean like there's a group of them walking around somewhere?"

"Yeah, but they're not like the huge one we saw last year. They walk on all fours and are like-..." Steve steadied his hand in the air at about three feet. "Yay high."

"But they're still dangerous," Lucas told them.

"And have a million teeth," Rowen added.

"They almost knocked us out of a bus," Max commented.

"Wait, a bus?" Nancy questioned. "What bus?"

"Well, uh..." Steve scratched the back of his head. "The Demogorgon that was in Dustin's house, we tried baiting it to the junkyard," he explained. "We were gonna set it on fire, you know? Like we did last year. But it, uh..." He placed his hands on his hips. "It, uh...it didn't go so well."

" _Yeah_ , 'cause the barrier around the bus was _shit_ ," Dustin complained. "It obviously couldn't keep out four demogorgons."

"How was I supposed to know three more would show up?" Steve snapped at him.

Rowen crossed her arms, ignoring their banter. "Basically, we just figured out there's more than one of them like... thirty minutes ago, so..."

"That's why we're here," Lucas said. "We were following them."

"You were following them?" Nancy questioned, concern all over her face.

Dustin stepped in front of her, looking between Nancy and Jonathan with excited eyes. "Yeah, so, basically, we were in the bus, and they were coming at us, right?" he began. "They threw themselves against it and made everything shake and fall over. Steve was whacking one with his bat because it broke through, so we ran to the back. Then another one jumped on top of the bus because we left the top open with the ladder and stuff, and it started roaring at us, you know? It was like _RAAAGH_ , and we were like _AHHH._ " He began waving his hands around comically, imparting what happened to them as if it was one of the coolest things he had ever experienced.

Nancy and Jonathan looked confused, Lucas gave his friend an incredulous look. Max, Rowen, and Steve didn't know what to think.

Dustin shifted on his feet, smile faltering. "Anyways, we uh... we thought they were gonna reach inside and grab us, but they didn't. We heard another roar from somewhere else and they just ran off."

"That's why we followed them," Lucas added.

"And then we heard roars coming from the lab, so we came here," said Dustin.

"Are you sure the roars came from the lab?" Jonathan asked.

"Positive," Lucas said with a nod. "We think they were being called back home or something."

It was then that the roars came again, repeatedly, echoing so loudly that Rowen would have been surprised if no one else heard it. She had no doubt in her mind that they came from the lab this time. Their silent question was answered... but what were they supposed to do? Wait until Dart and all his friends came charging at them again? They didn't have anything to protect them anymore.

She turned back to Nancy and Jonathan. "How long have you guys been looking for your brothers?" Rowen asked them.

"All day," Jonathan told her before turning his attention to the boys. "You guys haven't seen them?"

Lucas shook his head. "They're not answering their supercomms."

"They haven't been for the last two days," Dustin complained.

Jonathan deflated.

"Do you think they're in the lab, too?" Max piped up.

"Why would they be?" Lucas asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know... you said Will went to the lab for appointments sometimes, right?"

"Dude, how much did you tell her?" Dustin demanded of his friend.

"It's not like I told her every little detail!"

"And Will's appointments aren't a detail?"

"Guys, seriously?" Rowen butt in.

The arguing which she had hoped they were freed from returned until it was overruled by Jonathan's questions. Possibilities of Mike and Will's whereabouts were thrown back and forth, Dustin began to narrate their experience at the junkyard again. Max rolled her eyes and Rowen didn't know what to do, but when something that resembled the sound of flicking a large switch caught her ear...

"The power's back," said Nancy.

The overlapping voices went quiet. Rowen hadn't noticed she moved until she looked over Dustin's head. Nancy had broken away from the group, staring at the building as they all did now... and when they all realized what had happened, they bolted. They bolted towards the tollbooth before the gate. Jonathan reached it first, squeezing in and pressing his hand against what she assumed was the button that would move their obstacle aside.

But it didn't work. He smashed the button repeatedly until Dustin made him move, squeezing into the small booth himself.

"Let me try," he pushed.

"Dus-"

"Let me _try, Jonathan!_ "

Rowen looked over her shoulder. Dustin was smashing the button, again and again like Jonathan, going at it relentlessly until he could make it work. She was reminded of how he did the same with his English homework, trying again and again until he got it right. Honestly, the idea of 'trying again and again' sounded good in her head, but with Dustin, it wasn't exactly what she would call dedication. He just seemed to repeat things until they worked the way he wanted, cursing or grumbling in frustration until he got it as he did now.

The button pressing stopped, and she turned fully towards the booth this time. Dustin was looking up at the gate in hopes that it was opening... but it was not.

"Son of a _bitch_ ," he cursed. "You know what..." he began smashing the button even harder now.

Rowen rolled her eyes, ready to break the news to him that pressing harder would not make anything better. But, before she could even open her mouth, the gate jerked. Her gaze flew towards it. The metal blockade pulled open with a jitter, stopped with a screech when the road was free of it. She half expected a hoard of Demogorgons to come charging at them... but they never came.

"I got it!" Dustin called happily.

Nancy suddenly brushed by her, racing to the passenger side of the car that sat behind them while Jonathan trailed to the driver's side.

"You guys stay here," he told them, opening the car door. "We'll go see if they're up there."

Rowen looked over her shoulder, gaping at him. "You- you're kidding, right? Those things could be sitting by the front door waiting for us. You do realize that, don't you?"

"We'll be fine," Nancy told her calmly. "If they are we'll just... drive really fast."

They climbed in before she could utter another word, and before anyone else could say otherwise. The vehicle growled weakly, moved along with a slight creak that she caught as it passed.

Jonathan's car was... old. A 'well-used 1971 Ford LTD' old. If it wasn't already clear by the banged-up look the outside presented, having a brother who loved cars to the point of obsession made the statement painfully obvious to her. It also made her worry that Nancy was putting too much faith in its ability to make a quick getaway if Rowen was right about what sat waiting for them up the hill.

She was curious about cars, she would admit. Not to the point where she was truly interested... but for Billy, to say that was to give him an open invitation to tell her anything and everything he knew. And at the time- because it always put a smile on his face -Rowen didn't have the heart to stop him, which was why her second-hand knowledge was making her anxious.

She stared at the path for a while until she moved, stepping towards the tollbooth, looking inside out of pure curiosity. Why there was no security officer stationed outside was something she wanted an answer to. If the power was on, if people were inside the lab, then that meant there had to be someone outside, guarding... right? Wasn't that how places like this worked? A guard present at all times, keeping an eye out. Not an empty booth with a shotgun left abandoned in the corner.

She leaned against the side, eventually took the gun from its place.

"Hey, guys?..."

Rowen looked up from her worn, now dirt-covered shoes to see Max in the middle of the road, staring up the slow incline. She thought nothing of it at first... but when headlights suddenly swerved into their line of sight, inching closer and closer...

Jonathan honked at them as she came up behind Max and they immediately backstepped.

"Guys, get back!"

They just barely moved out of the way before he coasted by and, for a second, Rowen wondered why Jonathan didn't slow down for them. But then another car appeared behind him, slowing down instead.

Rowen's jaw dropped at the sight of the driver. " _Hopper_?!"

The chief parked his car in one swift motion, ordering them all to hop in the SUV. Steve jumped into action, opening the passenger door and making the kids go first. Max climbed in, then Dustin, then Lucas. Steve ushered her to get in and the gun was slipped to the back... but Rowen didn't climb. She couldn't. The kids filled what empty space was left, and Steve paused when he realized that himself.

But they didn't have time to pause. So, Rowen slid over as much as she could in the passenger seat, dragging him in by the hand so Hopper could go. The second the door closed, Hopper slammed on the gas, speeding forward as if they were in a getaway car.

It made her wonder... was she right when she said that the Demogorgons might have been up there waiting for them? Were Hopper, Mike, and Will in there with them? Had they been trapped? Is that where Hopper had been all this time?

"Woah, woah, woah..."

Speaking of Hopper.

"What is she doing here?" Hopper asked, glaring into his rearview mirror. Silence. He looked between Steve and the road ahead. " _What is she doing here_?"

Steve shifted awkwardly, as much as he could being squished between the door and Rowen. "Dustin?..." he called all of the chief's attention to the back, where Dustin made a noise of protest.

"Seriously? I have to explain _again_?"

"You didn't even explain the first time-"

"I don't care who the hell explains," Hopper snapped. " _Someone_ tell me why my receptionist is in this car."

"Okay, how about the receptionist tells you?" Rowen offered, brow raised. The chief glanced at her, waiting.

Rowen relayed the events of the past three days to her employer as simply as she could, mentioning Dart, Dustin's deceased cat, his crazy explanation of everything from November of last year up till now, the plan they made to trap Dart- which, now that she looked back on it, was a god-awful idea -and everything in between. The explanation took up many minutes, truthfully, but no one was bothered by it. Rowen's sudden involvement broke the silence that would have otherwise been extremely uncomfortable- in more ways than one -and somehow managed to refocus a very tense chief of police.

Not that her story made him any less tense... but it was another thing to worry about besides whatever he and Jonathan were driving away from.

Hopper ran a hand down his face, muttering under his breath.

"Where the hell have you been?" Rowen asked, anxious. "Were you at the lab the whole time?"

"No," he said. "Not the whole time, anyway. I went down to Merril's farm on Friday. You remember all the calls we got about crops dying?"

Rowen nodded.

Hopper began to relay his own events, from getting trapped in a hub of tunnels apparently connected to the Upside Down, being found by Mrs. Byers and a man named Bob, being dragged out of said tunnels by soldiers. He watched Will undergo way more than any kid should and then watched again as scientists poked and prodded him like a lab rat, only to find out that what he was trapped by was connected to Will somehow... And if that wasn't enough, there were more Demogorgons in the tunnels, climbing out and breaking through into the lab, killing most of the people there. The fact that he, Will, Mike, and Mrs. Byers got out with their lives was because of sheer luck.

"But, wait," Lucas said, tearing her away from all the questions which swirled in her head. "I thought that the only way to get to the Upside Down was through the gate?"

Hopper sighed. "Not anymore. The gate, the tunnels, the whole thing... they think it's spreading like some kind of virus, that is has been for the past year."

A heavy beat passed.

"Holy shit..."

"What about the demodogs?" Dustin asked.

The chief gave him a look through the mirror. "The what?"

"The Demogorgons," Dustin explained. "The ones in the lab... how many of them are there?"

Rowen caught Hopper's hands tense around the steering wheel. "Too many."

She would have shifted uncomfortably in her seat had she had the room to do so, but she was practically arm in arm with Steve and he was all but pressed against the window. They sat stiffly, and the car filled with an unsettling silence.

The walls of trees soon thinned into open space, and that open space was soon dotted with houses and powerlines, things that somehow made Rowen a little calmer when she saw them through the window. They were coming closer to town, but it seemed _into_ town wasn't where they were going. Hopper made a left turn that dragged them away from the street lights that sat neatly on the sides of the road, and suddenly it felt like they were in the forest again. Only, they were able to drive through the trees this time, unlike the trees that hid the train tracks.

Rowen occasionally cast a glance over her shoulder at three of her counterparts, checking to see if they weren't inching towards any kind of nervous breakdown, but- after five minutes had passed -also to see what made them so quiet. Had they not been shifting in their seats every other minute, she would have assumed they all fell asleep. But she had to admit, that was a dumb assumption right now. Sleep was a near-impossible thing at that moment, even with the sky above them that, on any other night, would have lulled her into it.

Despite how tired she felt, Rowen was wide awake. She was on edge still with the question of whether or not they were safe yet to be answered. It was the one question Hopper couldn't provide one to, and the weight of it swelled, filling the empty space of the car until all of them were left jittery and quietly impatient.

They juddered in and out of potholes and with the way the car jerked, Rowen strained her grip around the console so Steve wouldn't be squished further into the window. Maybe it was just because she was too close to him for her liking, but truthfully, she hated how small the seats were when the Blazer was big enough to haul all of them and three more. Then again... as she looked over her shoulder once more, with as much stuff as Hopper had squeezed into the back, she was surprised the kids found any room at all.

Hopper turned the wheel again and the tires rolled over a different path, one she couldn't see, but by the way it sounded, could tell was of gravel. They drove straight until one lone street lamp provided some light, shining down on a shabby, one-story house. It was dark on the inside, abandoned. Sheets and towels hung on a makeshift clothesline and a red Toyota Camry sat to their right, isolated. Hopper parked with much less vigor and she saw Jonathan pull up next to him through the window, seeing him fumble with his keys and climb out a little clumsier than the chief did.

Steve got out then, freeing Rowen of her cramped position before she stepped out too. Hopper's car didn't have seats that slid all the way forward like Billy's, so the kids climbed their way out; Max first, Lucas second, Dustin third with Steve's bat and backpack in hand.

Rowen didn't let any of them touch the gun she took.

She grabbed the weapon from the back and shut the passenger door just as Nancy raced by her, catching up to Jonathan who was, until she reached his side, attempting to open the front door while carrying his unconscious brother at the same time. Mrs. Byers walked in after them, quiet and closed in on herself, being guided by Hopper.

Another door shut.

"Woah, wait. Guys, what's Max doing here? And who is _she_?"

To say Rowen gave Mike a death glare would have been fitting. Out of everything that was going on, from his friend being unconscious to the demodogs- as Dustin called them -coming after them, he chose to scowl in her and Max's direction... And it was irritating. And her temper was growing shorter by the minute. She didn't have time to deal with a kid who didn't want them there.

Mike at least had the decency to flinch under her stare.

Rowen threw an arm around Max's shoulders and tugged her along as she went by him, going inside behind the rest. Jonathan placed Will on the couch, Rowen set the shotgun to the side in the hall, Max slumped into a chair in the kitchen.

Hopper eventually corraled everyone inside.

It took her a minute to really settle, realize what it was that they were doing- running from monsters... they were running from actual monsters. It took her until Hopper plucked the phone from the wall and dialed a number and began talking hurridly to whatever poor soul ended up having to listen to his 'serious tone' on the other end.

If there was anything Rowen learned from working with Hopper, it was that he had a lot of tones. Aggravated tones, parental tones, 'no bullshit' tones... they were vague ones, but they were tones all the same and she picked up on it quickly. Probably because her dad had vague tones, too.

She didn't know whether she should stand or sit. Hopper began to go back and forth with whoever it was he was speaking to and she found it hard to do anything except listen to the clock that ticked somewhere she couldn't see, to lean against the wall next to the gun she set down... just in case.

"Sam Owens. Dr. Sam Owens... I don't know how many people are there. I don't know how many people are left alive!"

Rowen wrapped her arms around her waist.

"I _am_ the police! _Chief_ Jim Hopper!... Yes, the number that I gave you. Yes, 6767- I will be here."

The phone was slammed back into its place.

"They didn't believe you, did they?" Dustin guessed.

"We'll see."

"'We'll see'?" Mike echoed. "We can't just sit here while those _things_ are loose!"

"We stay here, and we wait for help," Hopper said firmly. He turned to her. "Rowen, can I talk to you for a second?"

Rowen stiffened when he said her name, hesitated, watching him disappear down the hall. She threw a glance Max's way, catching how she had been staring... They all were. Rowen straightened, pushed herself from the wall and followed Hopper slowly. He looked at her expectantly.

"Listen, if this is about the junkyard, I didn't mean for that to happen, okay?" she blurted quietly.

Hopper sighed, but he didn't have enough time to get a word in.

"I mean, okay, so I could've kept it from happening, but one minute I was going to Dustin's house to tutor him and then the next there's this _thing_ trying to bite my head off and this kid is suddenly explaining _so much_ to me about other dimensions, and then before I know it we're trying to hunt the thing down with _him_ -" she gestured towards Steve's head.

"Rowen..."

"And then my stepsister shows up with another kid and I don't know what to do because we were already in too deep and I didn't wanna abandon them to save my own ass and- and I don't know, I'm sorry."

" _Rowen_."

"Yeah?"

The chief gave her an almost dubious look. "Why are you apologizing?"

She returned the look in equal measure. "Because I thought you were mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

Rowen hesitated, taking in the genuine concern on his face. "I-I don't know," she muttered. "You see a look on someone's face, you assume they're mad, I just-..."

"Listen, if I was mad, do you think I would've waited till now to tell you?"

She blinked. "No, but... but we could've gotten _killed_ ," she said. "...and I didn't do anything."

"Kid, that's not you're fault," Hopper said. "None of this is your fault. You got dragged into it, same as us."

Rowen stood there, picking at her nails, shifting from one foot to the other. "I know, but... _Jesus_ , I just stood there like an _idiot_. Steve almost got himself torn to pieces and I just _stood there_."

"Hey, hey," Hopper said softly. "Don't beat yourself up. You're not an idiot. Okay? You were doing what you thought was best. So was he."

Rowen hummed in disagreement, looked down at her hands. "What I thought was best was getting them out of there."

"And you did that."

She laughed dryly. "Yeah... after the fact," she said. "I let them sit there and almost get eaten and-... and even though we didn't get eaten, I still had no idea what I was doing."

"You think we do?" he almost laughed. "We don't even know what the hell we're dealing with."

"That's comforting," she muttered.

Hopper elected to ignore her comment. "We're gonna figure out what to do, I promise."

"How do you know we will?" she asked quietly. "You remember what happened last time you promised, right?" Rowen raised her brow. "'I won't be gone for hours this time'?"

"That's not going to happen again," he told her earnestly.

Rowen leveled his gaze. "If Mrs. Byers hadn't found you, you could've _died_ , Hopper."

"Yeah, but I didn't," he threw back. "And you won't either. None of us will."

As dark as it seemed, Rowen couldn't keep herself from doubting what he said. It was hard to believing anything she was hearing anymore. How could he promise something like that when he just told her that he had no idea what he was doing either? When the only reason he wasn't dead was because of sheer luck?

She began to chew on her bottom lip, looking at the lines of paper taped to the walls, taped to the floor... all over the place, actually. A mess of colored-in paper covered the Byers house from top to bottom and somehow she was just now noticing.

"Hey," Hopper said, calling her attention back to him. "I mean it. We're gonna get out of this." He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. "You're gonna be fine. _Max_ is gonna be fine."

Rowen couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye... one, because she didn't want him to see how she was blinking away what had glossed over her eyes, and two, because even with the 'assuring adult' role he tried to fit as best as he could right now, she still found it hard to believe him, and she didn't want him to feel like he failed. She nodded, and that was all.

Hopper took his hand off her shoulder, sighed.

Rowen glanced at the closed bedroom door to her left. She remembered hearing it slam, remembered how Mrs. Byers went into the house first and how she never saw her after that.

Rowen looked between the door and Hopper. "Who's Bob?" she asked hesitantly, quietly.

The question made him frown, made his shoulders drop. "Bob, uh..." He was mumbling. His hand was dragged down his face, roughly, as if it would wipe away all their problems. "He was her..." Somehow Hopper found it difficult to say the word.

But Rowen was perceptive enough to guess. She frowned. "...Husband?" Oh, God. If Mrs. Byers lost her husband to those things and Jonathan and Will lost a dad...

"No." But Hopper debunked that thought. "No, um... they were dating."

Realization washed across her face. "Oh."

"He was a good guy."

Rowen felt her heart sink. She glanced at the door again, crossing her arms. "Is she okay?"

Hopper's gaze turned to the walls around them, but he nodded once more. "She will be. Joyce's a tough woman," he said, throwing her a look. "And you're a tough kid."

Rowen scoffed slightly, unconvinced. "Tough kid to talk to?"

That got a huff out of him. "Sometimes," he admitted. "...But you know what I mean."

She almost found the will to shake her head at him as if he was crazy, but the second that she looked him in the eye, she found she couldn't. Rowen expected him to be upset. Hell, she expected him to be furious, to quietly chastise her in the hall so the kids wouldn't see or hear what went down. She expected him to call her out for being stupid, reckless even... but he didn't. Out of everything she could have seen coming, what actually happened was inching towards the bottom. Maybe at the very bottom.

Hopper squeezed her shoulder and told her everything was alright and would be alright as if she was a five-year-old who dug themselves in too deep and broke a rule they didn't mean to break. And it made her feel oddly calm, the worry and anxiety she felt over what he would say to her replaced with... something. Something she wasn't used to.

"We'll be okay," he told her.

Rowen nodded again. He nodded in return, then stepped towards Mrs. Byers's door, pushing it open. Rowen chose then to go back to the kitchen, arms crossed once more. The kids still slumped in their seats, but when Max saw her, she sat up just a little bit straighter.

"What were you guys talking about?"

Rowen shook her head as she came up to her chair. "Nothing important," she said, squeezing Max's shoulder.

"He doesn't know what to do, does he?" Mike asked from across the table.

Rowen tried not to glare at him again.

His face still presented her with the same, hard stare he had when they were outside and she felt an urge to snap at him... But she bit back her tongue and took in a breath, placing her hands on the top of the chair. "Hopper said that we're gonna get out of this... Okay? Backup or not, we're going to get out of this. We're gonna find a way to fix everything."

"How do you know that?" Mike snapped. "Those things could've broken out of the lab by now."

It took everything in her not to bite back, to swallow down the way she would normally react. "Mike, I realize that, but-"

"But _what_?... You don't know what could happen. You don't know anything."

"Mike, knock it off," Lucas tried. "She's just trying to help."

"Help by what? By lying to us?"

"By keeping you dip-shits calm," Steve snapped from behind him. "Okay, I don't know what you saw at that lab, Wheeler, but whatever the hell happened, don't take it out on her, alright?"

Mike held a glare with him for a moment, but he then let out a sigh, sinking back into his chair. She could see it all over his face. Mike wasn't just annoyed by the fact that she and Max were intruding on whatever it was about this whole ordeal that he held close to him... Something happened.

Rowen thought of the lab, she thought of how he had been there, thought of Mrs. Byers and Will, thought of... "Hopper told me about Bob."

She caught Mike's attention.

"Did you know him?" she tried.

But Mike kept his mouth shut tight, and his gaze fell down to the table.

"He played DnD with us sometimes," Dustin told her fondly, looking between his friends. "You know? When we would come here for a campaign, he would always ask us about it and make us popcorn and stuff."

"Yeah, he was pretty cool," Lucas agreed.

Rowen looked down at the top of Max's head, and the table fell silent again. She wished she had that same way of assuring people like Hopper did, that same determined look in her eye that said everything was going to be okay, even if it wasn't. Even if she didn't believe him herself... she didn't want to see the four seated around the table so downcast.

"Did you guys know he was the original founder of the Hawkins AV?" Mike said quietly.

Lucas looked up at his friend. "Really?"

Mike sat up a little in his seat. "He petitioned the school to start it and everything. Then he had a fundraiser for equipment... Mr. Clarke learned everything from him. Pretty awesome, right?" He looked down at his folded hands, shaking his head. "We can't let him die in vain."

"Well, what do you wanna do Mike?" Dustin questioned. "The chief's right on this. We can stop those demodogs on our own. If it was just Dart... _maybe_."

"But there's an army now," said Lucas.

"Precisely."

"His army..." Mike muttered, eyes suddenly wide.

Rowen's brows drew together. "What?"

" _His_ army," Mike repeated, glancing between all of them. "Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army, too."

"Who's him?" Steve asked.

Mike bolted from his seat, racing down the hall. The boys and Max followed suit, then Rowen and Steve. Mike shuffled through papers in a desk until he found the one he was looking for, pushing it into his friend's hand.

Dustin's eyes widened in realization. "The shadow monster."

"It got Will that day on the field," explained Mike. "The doctor said it was like a virus. It infected him."

"So this virus... it's connecting him to the tunnels?" asked Max.

"To the tunnels, to the monsters, to the Upside Down, the everything-..."

"Okay, woah, slow down, slow down," Steve interrupted.

Mike turned to him. "Okay, so, if the shadow monster's inside of everything, and if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will."

"And so does Dart," Dustin added.

"Yeah, it's like what Mr. Clarke taught us. The hive-mind."

"Hive mind?" Steve echoed.

"A collective consciousness," said Dustin. "It's a superorganism."

"This is the thing that controls everything," Mike explained further. "It's the brain."

Then Dustin's eyes widened even more. "Like the mind flayer..."

"The mind what?" Rowen asked.

"Kitchen. Now," Dustin ordered to no one in particular, disappearing into what she assumed was Will's room, digging through drawers and looking under the bed. Mike went into the living room, Steve went down the hall with Max in tow. Rowen lingered, stopping at Mrs. Byers's room.

"Hopper?" she tried, tapping on the bedroom door.

She heard no noise of protest, pushing the door open to see more colored-in paper fill walls and cover furniture. Hopper sat on the ground, Mrs. Byers sat on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, but they both looked over to Rowen expectantly.

"We need you in the kitchen," she told the chief. "Mike and Dustin think they found something."

Mrs. Byers shared a wary look with Hopper but beckoned him to go anyway, throwing a weak smile Rowen's way, as if saying she would be alright by herself. Rowen returned the small gesture, stepping back over the threshold, going to the kitchen.

Dustin raced to the table as everyone began to approach, book in hand, flipping through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. He plopped the book down. "The mind flayer..."

"The hell is that?" Hopper asked, coming to stand next to her.

"It's a monster from an unknown dimension," Dustin explained. "It's _so_ ancient that it doesn't even know its true home. Okay, it enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly developed psionic powers."

"Oh my god," Hopper griped. "None of this is real. This is a _kid's_ game."

"No- no, it's a _manual_ ," Dustin corrected, brow raised at the chief. "And it's not for kids. And unless you know something that we don't, _this_ is the best metaphor-"

"Analogy."

"'Analogy'?" Dustin echoed, glaring at Lucas. "That's what you're worried about?! Fine. _Analogy_... for understanding whatever the hell this is."

Rowen throws her hands up slightly, gaze on the manual. "Okay, so this Mind-Thing..."

"Flayer. Mind Flayer."

She threw him a dangerous look, but bit back her tongue. "This _Mind Flayer_... what does it want?"

"To conquer us, basically. It believes it's the master race."

"Oh, like the uh, like the Germans."

As if she needed another reason to look at Steve questionably. Nancy and Jonathan looked at him in the same way.

"Uh, the _Nazis_?"

She could actually see the gears turn in his head, making him realize what exactly it was that he just said. "Yeah, yeah, the Nazis," he muttered.

"Uh... if the Nazis were from another dimension then, yeah. Totally," Dustin tried. "But yeah, uh, it views other races, like us, as inferior to itself."

"It wants to spread," Mike butted in. "Take over other dimensions."

"We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it," said Lucas.

"Okay, no," Rowen waved her hand out, stopping him there. "No, we're not talking about 'end of the world' stuff right now..."

"Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that's controlling everything..." Nancy takes the book, pacing around the table. "...then if we kill it?"

"We kill everything it controls," Mike finishes for her.

"We win," Dustin says. "Theoretically, anyway..."

"Alright, great," Hopper gruffs, swiping the book from Nancy's grasp. "So how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?"

Dustin laughed under his breath. "No... no, no, no fireballs, uh... you summon an undead army? Uh, because... because zombies, you know? They- they don't have brains and the- the Mind Flayer it... it likes brains..." Hopper gave him a look, and Dustin shook his head. "It's just a game."

With a sigh, Rowen began to rub her forehead, eyes falling shut.

Hopper was growing frustrated. "The hell are we doing here?" he asked, slamming the book onto the table.

"I thought we were waiting for your military back-up?" Dustin sassed.

"We are!" the chief shouted.

"But even if they come, how are they gonna stop this?" Mike asked. "You can't just shoot this with _guns_."

"You don't know that! We don't know anything!-"

"We know it's already killed everybody in that lab!"

"And we know the monsters are gonna molt again!"

"And we _know_ it's only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town."

Hopper exhaled deeply through his nose, rubbing at his face again, hoping this was all some kind of dream he could wipe away. He shared a look with Rowen, but all she did was give him a discouraging shrug. "We're running out of options, chief," she said. "Unless you have another idea up your sleeve, this is all we got."

But Hopper pressed his lips in a thin line and gave her a look that said no, he did not.

"She's right..." Mrs. Byers's voice breaks the argument, bringing all gazes towards her. "They're _right_..." She stood at the threshold, straight and tall despite the pained across her face. "We have to kill it," she said. "I _want_... to kill it."

Hopper broke away from the group, walking up to her. "Me too. _Me too_ , Joyce," he said. "Okay? But how do we do that?... We don't exactly know what we're dealing with here."

"No... but he does," Mike said. He trailed into the living room, gaze fixed on his friend. "If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it's Will. He's connected to it. He'll know its weakness."

"But I thought we couldn't trust him anymore?" said Max. "That he's a spy for the Mind Flayer now."

"Yeah, but... he can't spy if he doesn't know where he is."


	19. And Then We All Die

Whatever had been injected into his arm aside, if Rowen knew one thing, she knew Will was knocked out cold. All the stomping, racing, and tossing of random objects which made noises loud enough to wake even the deepest sleepers, and he didn't stir. Never woke and asked what was going on. Not a peep... not even a murmur or shift. The only reason they knew he was still alive was because of the way Jonathan kept to his side, making sure he was breathing.

Their plan was set into motion when Jonathan checked one last time.

The second Mike mentioned the shed behind the house, Hopper began to clear it out. From an old lawnmower to rusty tools, old chairs and appliances not even used... other things she did not want to ask about, he threw it all onto the mix of brown and green grass that could no longer withstand the cold. It piled up until things began to tumble, and Rowen wasn't sure if she would be able to find anything useful from it- almost like finding a needle in a haystack. But she looked anyway, helped the boys dig through until Nancy found two tarps.

For an unknown reason, she asked Rowen to help her, but Rowen never said anything against it. She left the boys and walked into the shed.

Frankly, Rowen found it better than trying to search through piles despite not knowing what it was she was searching for. She struggled with the heavy material folding in on them for several minutes until it finally gave, but hanging it from the wood with duck-tape was simple. Easy. They had to cover every inch, make the space look like it could be anywhere.

"Hey," Nancy called her attention, bringing her gaze away from the tarp. "I'm sorry you had to deal with me on Halloween. I was... I don't know, I drank _way_ too much. I wasn't myself."

Rowen shook her head before going back to the tape. "Don't worry about it," she said, shrugging. "I get it. I was doing the same thing." But Nancy quirked a brow, and she faltered when she saw it, smiling cheekily. "Trying, anyway."

Nancy smiled back, tearing off a piece of ducktape as Rowen placed another across an edge of the tarp.

"Still, I feel kind of bad for it. The punch and everything..."

"You shouldn't. It wasn't a big deal."

"Are you sure?"

"Nancy," Rowen said firmly, pausing it what she was doing. "It's fine, really. You were drunk off your ass. I didn't want you to fall down the stairs."

Nancy pressed her lips in a tight line, nodding, dropping the subject. She handed Rowen another strip, Rowen pressed it against another edge.

"And the punch-spilling wasn't you, by the way. That was Steve."

"It was?"

Rowen gave her a look, but Nancy only looked at her curiously. "Jesus, you were really out of it weren't you?" she laughed.

Nancy laughed a little herself, bashful. "Guess I was."

Rowen reached for the staple gun at her feet.

"Can I ask you something?" Nancy caught her attention again. "How did you guys end up on a bus in the first place?"

Rowen huffed before stapling a folded corner against the wood. It took no time to think of that answer. "Dustin."

Nancy's brows pinched, and she gave her a look as if waiting for her to expound.

"It was just me and him at first. After I found one of those things in his room, he ended up trapping it in his cellar. We didn't know what to do with it, so we tried calling his friends, Hopper... but no one was answering, so we started going to houses. We stopped by yours, and then Steve showed up two seconds later."

"And he just went with you guys?" Nancy squinted.

"The minute Dustin said the words 'Demogorgon' and 'she knows what really happened', he started running to his car." Rowen smiled, finding it easier to be amused now that it was behind her.

Nancy smirked. "That's all it took?"

"Yeah. But, by the time we got back, the thing actually _dug_ its way out of the cellar. We thought trying to trap it again was a _great_ idea, so Dustin suggested the junkyard... and the bus."

Nancy smiled to herself. "So Dustin's the reason, huh?"

Rowen nodded. "He's a nice kid, but he is _scary_ good at dragging people into things." Rowen began busying herself with the last edge of the tarp, stapling it until she was sure it would stay. They continued to work away until another thought came to her mind. "By the way... I'm pretty sure your dad thinks we're friends."

Nancy paused. "What?"

"Yeah, um, it was last night. I left my bike on your front lawn so Steve offered to help me get it. Your dad saw his headlights and came out to help us, and... somehow that whole thing ended with us being invited to dinner."

Nancy looked over to Rowen in slight disbelief. "You're kidding..."

"No," Rowen laughed, shaking her head. "He said, and I quote, 'See you then! Make sure you get Nancy's friend home safe!'" Rowen waved her hands around slightly before letting them plop to her side. "And Steve just went along with it."

"Oh my God," Nancy laughed. "I'm so sorry."

Rowen smiled. "It's okay."

"I'll try and get you out of it when we're done with all of this."

"Are you sure?" Rowen asked, smirking. "Your dad seemed pretty happy about it."

"You do not want to have dinner with my dad," Nancy implored. "Trust me. That's two hours you'll never get back."

Rowen finished hanging the first tarp with one last staple, moving aside to grab the other. It took both she and Nancy to unfold it, and by then, Rowen began to wonder why no one else came inside to help them when what they were using to cover the shed was bigger than the two of them combined, but she pushed it up and continued to press tape and staple anyway.

"Can I ask you something?" Rowen echoed Nancy's earlier question.

"Sure."

"Last year, when Will got stuck in the Upside Down... was the Mind Flayer in him then?"

Nancy bit her lip, stopping before she could rip off more tape. "No," she said after a moment, shaking her head. "If it was, I think we would've known. I think things would've ended differently."

"What do you mean by 'different'?"

"I mean... last year, we had no idea what was going on. We didn't know what the Demogorgon was. We just thought it was this _animal_ that escaped the lab and took Will. Now... now we know, but there's not just one of them anymore. And we don't have backup. We don't have Eleven... It's just us."

"We have a plan, don't we?"

"A plan my brother came up with." Nancy almost laughed as if she couldn't believe it. "But I guess that's not such a bad thing. He's an idiot, but he can be pretty smart, sometimes."

Rowen nodded in understanding. "I get it... They can surprise you yet make you want to rip your hair out at the same time."

"Yeah... they can be a pain."

"More than a pain."

Nancy threw her a curious look. "Is it that bad?"

Rowen met her gaze. "I have Billy for a brother, remember?"

Nancy took a moment to remember. She looked down to the floor, nearly pristine after Hopper's thorough cleaning. She nodded.

Rowen's mouth fell open, and she shrugged. "He's an asshole... and he can be an idiot most of the time. I'm the last person that needs to be told that, but... it's like you said with Mike. He's still my brother." Rowen took in a deep breath. "Which is _why_ I'm gonna have a hell of a time explaining why Max and I came home so late if we get out of this alive."

"We will," Nancy assured her. Her voice was quiet. She kept her attention on the tape and honestly, Rowen found it hard to believe her words. But then their gazes met again, and she recognized the look in Nancy's eye. It was the same as Hopper's and, while Rowen wasn't exactly convinced by his words either, she knew Nancy meant what she said.

They were determined and... jeez, Rowen was determined too. Putting aside the nerves and anxiety and the doubts that swarmed in her mind, she was ready to help get that thing out of Will at whatever expense, shoot those demodogs until they went limp. Because Will was just a kid and she would have been just as determined as Jonathan was if it was Max that the Mind Flayer was inside.

Nancy and Rowen continued to staple and tape in silence until the kids barged in with more things; spotlights, rope, scraps of objects she couldn't identify and more. They were building an interrogation room, she came to realize. One that hid any sense of familiarity and hid any clue as to where they might be.

She left the shed when Mike brought in the lights, when Mrs. Byers brought a small bottle filled with liquid and a needle that made her squirm.

Rowen stood in the house filled with colored paper while her stepsister made herself busy, while Jonathan lifted his brother from the couch and carried him out the back door, Hopper following not too far behind.

The chief never told her to stay put and never told her to wait, but that was what she made herself do. She leaned against the wall and mirrored Nancy's crossed arms, sticking close to the shotgun that hadn't moved from where it was placed.

Time was a nightmare when it came to waiting for the worst to come, waiting for something to happen despite having no idea what it was. She had no idea what would happen to Will, no idea what would happen to them. She stood in place and looked at her wrist even though her watch was in her bag, watched Steve from the corner of her eye as he swung his bat as if he was preparing for battle... which she guessed they kind of were. Against her better judgment, she listened as Lucas spoke of their situation and of the dangers and of the way things could turn apocalyptic if they failed, if this Mind Flayer won.

This was reality now. This was real life... It made her shudder.

And then the lights flickered. They flickered in an eerie fashion with an intensity that made her want to shrink in on herself yet propelled her forward towards the kitchen window. Rowen's stomach lurched at the sight of the shed, how light flickered through the gaps.

"What's going on?"

"They're trying to reach him," Dustin told her.

It felt as if they waited for an eternity until the lights flickered, and it felt like another eternity until Hopper came barreling through the back door with Mrs. Byers. Mike and Jonathan were right behind them.

"What happened?"

"I think he's talking," said Hopper. "Just not with words."

She watched as the chief scribbled down lines and dots on the back of a stray envelope, brows pinched, wondering what exactly it was that he was doing. But then he began right letters underneath, and she suddenly remembered what her sickly high school English teacher taught her.

"Morse code." Four boys spoke in unison.

The letters spelled 'HERE'.

"Will's still in there," Hopper concluded. "He's talking to us."

"I've got an idea," said Dustin. All the attention now on him, he raced away from the table and down the hall to Will's room. He came out with a supercom, racing over to the living room, digging through the bag that he had left in a corner. Radio in hand, he returned with a notepad in the other, placing the former in front of Hopper, onto the table.

"Use this to tell us what he says," he instructed the chief. "I'll switch mine to Will's channel and we can write it down as he goes. That way you won't have to go back and forth and the Mind Flayer won't suspect anything."

It was evident that Hopper was staring at him open-mouthed. And Rowen, albeit just as caught off guard, couldn't deny the little bit of pride swelled up in her chest. The boys nodded in agreement and Hopper cleared his throat.

"Yeah, uh... yeah. Sounds good. That'll work."

Rowen smirked. "Think you've got some competition, chief."

Hopper glared in her direction. "Zip it," he snapped, standing from his seat.

They hurried through doors and shuffled through things as they did before the inside of the shed was tossed outside. Those who came in went out again and the house swelled with the quiet that once inhabited it. Only now that quiet was broken, disturbed by the static of Dustin's supercom. As minutes passed, the chief sent beeps and short shrieks, which she soon learned acted as morse code for walkie-talkies. Lucas scanned through the sheet which translated it and the letters were written down as they went.

"C... L... O... S... E..."

"G... A... T... E."

"Close gate..." They read aloud.

Then the phone rang.

It rang just as the two words left their mouths, and Rowen swore everyone jumped at least three feet. Dustin immediately moved towards it with her at his heels, plucking the phone from its place and slamming it back. The ringing stopped... but then it rang again.

Fed up with it, Rowen kept Dustin from trying his earlier tactic and pulled the handpiece along with its winding cord from the body, throwing it to the ground. It cracked. She breathed out deeply.

Rowen prepared to apologize to Mrs. Byers later.

"Do you think he heard that?" Max asked.

"It's just a phone," Steve tried. "Could be anywhere... right?"

Now she was sure that this _thing_ just enjoyed messing with them. Every time someone said something, whether grim or reassuring, anything close to implying that they would come out unscathed, they heard those goddamn roars. And now they heard them again. The inhuman noise pushed the entire group to their feet, into the living room where they bored their eyes at partially covered windows.

"That's not good."

"No shit," Rowen breathed.

She immediately began to look for the shotgun and her movements caused a chain of other movements. Steve gripped his bat, Lucas grabbed a slingshot, Mike came rushing in through the back door and those who didn't have weapons scurried over to the window with him, peeking, waiting.

Mrs. Byers came up next to Rowen with her hands wrapped around her eldest's arm. She looked down at the gun and Rowen caught it, sparing her a wary glance, but only gripping the piece tighter.

Mrs. Byers didn't approve of kids with guns. It was reasonable.

"Hey! Get away from the windows!" She heard Hopper snap at them before he stomped into the room.

The kids listened, stepped behind him, behind her and Steve- Lucas too, because somehow he looked very determined with his slingshot.

Hopper gripped a rifle in one hand and held out a second, tossing it to Nancy to use once they found out Jonathan could not. Her movements with the weapon looked well-rehearsed.

The daggers Hopper glared towards the gun in Rowen's hand were too. "Where the hell did you get that?"

Rowen and a gun. A gun in Rowen's possession. It wasn't a picture he expected to see ever, even if they had only known each other for a little over a week.

She glanced between him and the weapon. "At the lab. Some idiot left it in the tollbooth."

"Do you know how to use it?"

"Would I be holding it if I didn't?" She found herself snapping at him.

Hopper glared, gave her a silent 'watch it', but her words seemed to be good enough.

"Since when did you know how to use a gun?" Dustin asked from behind her.

"Since we lived across the street from a cop in California."

Rowen cocked it, its harsh clicks filling the one-story house.

She remembered their neighbors very well. The Armstrongs; a nice family, a close family. A family that got along and loved each other despite the lack of money in their pockets. Chris Armstrong was a well-known cop in San Diego; respected and admired for what he did and how he did it. Her dad was a security guard at the time and frankly, they had very little in common, but the man still hit it off with him and to that day, Rowen still had no idea as to why.

But she never complained. He had a daughter her age and welcomed her into their house any time, any day. His wife offered her cookies and let her do her homework at their dining room table. It was nice... having that. Having a friend that would invite you over for dinner and have parents that would do things for you and ask generic questions as if they really cared- because they did care.

Chris taught her how to shoot. He taught her because she showed such interest in it. He brought her out to a shooting range and gave her safety glasses that were way too big for her head. He taught her how to hold a revolver and told her the way her hands ached was normal because guns had a lot of kickback and for a thirteen-year-old with a weak grip, that kind of thing hurt.

It was fun. They shot the guns twice, and it was better than most things to her.

Until her dad stepped in. She went to the range a total of three times before he found out. Things were thrown, discussions were had. It was the first and only time she had seen Mr. Armstrong mad- properly mad... rightfully mad. Sometimes Rowen wondered if he knew more about her home life than he let on, but she never had the chance to confront him.

The next time a peep was heard from the Armstrong house was when Mary, the daughter, showed up at their front door in tears. Rowen took her back to her own home, her mother took her away, and Rowen sat at the kitchen table until she was told what made her friend so hysterical.

**_"Chris Armstrong dies in the line of duty."_ **

That was what the newspapers said- what his partner at the police station tried to say. Her dad called him "a noble guy" and she felt like punching him, Mary cried and she felt like hugging her. Rowen acted on neither. She was invited to the funeral, Mr. Armstrong was buried, and somewhere along the way, she discovered she was no longer welcome in that house.

She never got closure for it.

Rowen didn't learn much, therefore she didn't know much... but she knew how to hold a gun, knew how to shoot. She knew how to use a handheld and a shotgun turned out to be not so different. She knew what counted, which was pumping metal into these things.

The roars turned to growls and the growls began to move- move around the house and left them yanking their guns one way, the other.

"What are they doing?"

No one ever answered Nancy, but they all had a feeling as to what. Rowen could see the bushes rub against the dining room window, screech against the windows and tell them that the demodogs were there... hiding.

A roar came again and she struggled to keep herself from jumping out of her skin, to not accidentally pull the trigger her finger was wrapped around. They pointed their weapons to the front once more. The dogs growled. The bushes moved again, shook and left her heart beating at a mile a minute-...

The window broke. They yelled.

All of them backstepped in sync and when they stopped, Rowen found the same monster that screeched in their faces lying at their feet, unmoving. Was it dead?

Hopper took the first step- the first two, three steps. Then the rest followed. Rowen moved, Steve and Nancy moved.

"Is it dead?" Max asked behind them. No one answered her either.

Hopper nudged the thing with his foot and that was the silent nod of approval that yes, it was dead. But what had killed it? What bodyslammed that thing through the window?

Then another noise came- quiet, like metal moving against metal. They turned towards the door and Rowen saw the chain lock twitch. The deadbolt flew open and everyone raised their weapons again.

Rowen had a terrible feeling. She had a terrible feeling that what was on the other side of the door was bigger than all of them and it showed with her unsteady hands and uneven breath... but she wasn't about to run. Not now.

The chain was pushed out of its place and she gripped her gun tighter. Hopper stood tall, not completely in front but standing in front as much as he could as if he was a barrier between it and them.

The door began to open, but it didn't open immediately the same way the window broke immediately. It creaked slowly and Rowen swore she was about to let all hell break loose... but when a pair of converse opposite to hers stepped over the threshold, she found the gun in her hands wasn't needed. Suddenly everyone was lowering their weapons.

A girl stood before them. A girl... who had blood trailing from her nose and opened the door from the inside-...

Eleven.

A moment of shock passed and Mike rushed over to her before anyone could blink, wrapping her in a bone-crushing hug. He said he waited and she said she heard and Rowen almost wanted to ask, but she bit her lip and keep her mouth shut instead, watching along with everyone else.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were there?" Mike asked. "That you were okay?"

"Because I wouldn't let her," said Hopper.

Something suddenly clicked in the back of Rowen's mind as he moved towards the two.

"The hell is this? Where have you been?"

"Where have _you_ been?" the girl shot back. But it was hollow. Hopper wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug- one that she easily gave into.

Rowen saw how Mike's eyes widened. "You've been hiding her... You've been hiding her all this time!" He shoved at the chief's arm and Hopper barely flinched, but he grabbed Mike by the shirt and gave him a look that she only saw once.

"Hey- Hey! Let's _talk_... _alone_."

He pushed Mike into the hall without a word. Rowen heard a door slam, and her attention went back to Eleven.

"Is that?..." Max asked the boys. They nodded, but that was all the answer they gave before rushing over to their friend, engulfing her into a three-person hug.

"We talked about you pretty much every day."

They pulled away from each other, and Eleven suddenly reached out towards Dustin's mouth, talking about his teeth. It made Rowen smile just a little. Observations were made, Dustin purred for a reason that she didn't even want to ask about. Max's introduction went ignored but she figured now wasn't the time to ask.

Then Mrs. Byers gave Eleven a hug... and it was down to Rowen.

"I don't know why I didn't put the pieces together until now, but... now it makes sense." Rowen smiled slightly, and Eleven looked away from her, at the drawings all over the house. "Did you get home safe?"

Eleven nodded. "Yes. Did you... pinky promise?"

"Oh, yeah." She nodded immediately, looking between Eleven and the shut door, nodding herself. "Yeah. I didn't tell him."

Eleven gave her a sheepish smile, a silent 'thank you'. She turned to Mrs. Byers once more. "Can I see him?"

Mrs. Byers gave her a watery smile. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."

A soft hand placed on her back, she led Eleven down the hall into a different room. Rowen hadn't considered following them, but when three smaller people rushed towards her, she began to wish she had.

"How do you know El?"

"You guys met before?"

"What did you mean by 'now it makes sense'? What didn't you tell?"

"Woah, woah, woah. Guys, slow down,"

Rowen interrupted, holding her hands up defensively.

"How do you know El?" Dustin repeated.

Rowen took in a breath. "Okay, so... you remember that day we found Will on the field?" She received three nods. "Before I went into the middle school, I ran into Eleven. Almost knocked her over, actually..."

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Dustin demanded.

"Because I didn't know it was Eleven I was talking to?"

"What was she doing at the school?" Lucas asked.

Rowen shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "But she was really quiet. She looked like she didn't want to be seen."

"Wait... then what was it that you didn't tell? Did she talk to you?"

"Yeah. I mean, I thought she was going to run away at first, but then she saw Hopper's car and it made her relax, I guess. She told me not to tell him I saw her."

"That was it?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah?" She forgoed mentioning how she introduced the concept of pinky-promises to her.

Eleven appeared from the hall and Rowen looked over her shoulder to see. The former moved a little quicker than she had been before, stopping at the kitchen table with Mrs. Byers, staring down at the message Nancy had written across the cardboard.

Mrs. Byers looked at it too, then at Eleven. "You opened this gate before, right?"

Eleven nodded as everyone else joined them in the kitchen. "Yes."

"Do you think if- if we got you back there that you could close it?"

Eleven never answered her, but she glared down at the message as if she was mulling it over, thinking hard. She glanced at Mrs. Byers, a determined way about her.

"Is that all we need to do?" Rowen asked next to the girl clad in dark makeup and clothes. "We just get Eleven to the gate and that's it?"

A grumble of disagreement brought her gaze to Hopper. "No," he said. "If it was the size it was last year... _maybe._ But it's not like it was before. It's grown... a lot. And I mean that's considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs."

"Demodogs..."

Hopper turned to the kid in the red, white, and blue trucker hat. "I'm sorry, what?"

" _Dustin_ ," Rowen muttered, throwing him a look.

But she was ignored. "I said, uh... demodogs. You know? What I said in the car. Demogorgons and dogs. You put them together, it sounds pretty badass..."

"How is this important right now?" Hopper snapped.

"It's not. I'm sorry."

"I can do it," Eleven said with certainty.

But the chief shook his head. "You're not hearing me."

"I'm hearing you," she told him firmly. "I can do it."

"Even if El can, there's still another problem." Mike interrupted the soft banter. "If the brain dies, the body dies."

Rowen furrowed her brow. "Uh, yeah. That's kind of the point, isn't it?"

"It is, but... if we're really right about this. I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the Mind Flayer's army..."

"Will's apart of that army." Lucas finished.

"Closing the gate will kill him."

That statement left the entire group feeling heavy. It made sense. The Mind Flayer got Will on the field. It was in him now. Will felt what it felt, curved inward at the pain that filled his stomach when the demodogs were whacked with bats and torched with fire. If the gate would kill them, it would kill him... and she didn't even want to begin to imagine how unbearable that would be. Not just for Will but for his family and his friends who stood around her.

Rowen squinted at the table, one specific word highlighted in her mind. "Hold on... You said this thing was like a virus, right? If it is, then there has to be a way to get it out of him."

Her offer seemed to spark a flurry. Thoughts began to swirl through everyone's heads and she could see it so plainly. They were all trying to add to that, say yes, there is a way.

"Maybe there is."

Everyone turned to Mrs. Byers. She looked to Rowen, nodded slightly, then she got up without another word. She headed down the hall to the room Will had been placed in. Rowen immediately followed her, as did everyone else.

"He likes it cold."

"What?"

"That's what Will kept saying to me... He likes it cold." Mrs. Byers went towards the open window, shutting it. "We keep giving it what it wants."

Nancy looked down at Will's unconscious form. "If this is a virus and this is the host, then?..."

"Then we need to make the host uninhabitable," Jonathan answered.

"So, if he likes it cold..." Rowen thought aloud.

"We need to burn it out of him." Mrs. Byers finished for her, tone hardened. She was ready to do whatever it took. Rowen could see that as plain as day.

"We have to do it somewhere he doesn't know this time," said Mike.

Dustin nodded. "Yeah, somewhere far away."

Everyone fell silent, thinking, wondering...

"The cabin," El said, gaze pinned on Hopper.

"What?"

"The cabin," Hopper echoed, realizing. "My cabin. It's near the edge of town." He moved towards the bed, wrapping Will in the blanket before picking him up. "You can go there," he told Mrs. Byers. "That thing won't have a clue where it is."

Everyone moved aside to let the chief pass, Mrs. Byers hot on his heels. They stepped over the threshold one by one, crunching over papers, dispersing into different areas of the house. Hopper muttered something quietly to Mrs. Byers, Jonathan took Will from his arms. Rowen waited by the front door as Steve and Nancy left to search for heaters, and the kids separated outside to do the same.

Many minutes passed until her name was called.

"Rowen," the chief waved her outside. "I'm taking El to the lab, they're taking Will to the cabin. I want you and Harrington to stay here. Keep an eye on those kids, alright?"

"Wait, you-..." she laughed dryly. "You want us to sit here and do nothing?"

"I _want you_ to stay safe. I want those kids to stay safe. There's been enough child endangerment as it is."

"Yeah, because we _put_ ourselves in danger." He ignored her comment. "What if you need help?" she tried.

But Hopper wasn't having it. He reached the driver's side of the Blazer and pointed before she could utter another word. " _Stay here_ ," he instructed. "You hear me?"

Rowen felt a hand nudge her arm and her gaze fell on slicked-back curls.

"I can do it." Eleven told her.

Rowen wasn't an idiot. She knew what the girl in front of her could do. She knew that Eleven had done impossible things before... yet she couldn't help but give the younger girl a wary look. "Are you sure?"

Eleven nodded with certainty. "Pinky promise."

Somehow those two words resonated in a place that made Rowen both believe her and feel scared for her at the same time. Her heart was heavy and she stared uneasily at the girl that was about to take on something unimaginably terrifying and so much bigger than herself. She wanted to drag Eleven by the arm and tell her no, don't risk her life for the rest of them, don't put herself through that.

But... she was also well aware of the fact that she didn't have a say. She was coming along for the ride and that was it, which was why Hopper kept a hard gaze when she glanced his way. Rowen nodded reluctantly and gave Eleven something of a smile. Eleven mirrored it, then stalked towards the other side of the SUV. Nancy shut the door to Jonathan's car and the remainder of their group watched as they left.

A few minutes seemed like a few hours when all that filled the Byers house was pacing and the sound of glass being moved around on the floor. They sat in the aftermath of discovering what it was they needed to do. Lucas was sweeping it, Max was holding a dustpan... there was a dead Demogorgon in the fridge and she wasn't even surprised that Dustin got Steve to put it in there. Like she told Nancy, he was scary good at convincing people... But that wasn't even the weirdest part.

The weirdest part was that they were actually doing what Hopper told her to do. And, while Rowen might have been pleased with it two hours ago, now... now she hated it. She wanted to help.

"Mike! Would you just stop already?" Lucas snapped.

"You weren't in there, okay Lucas? That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs."

"The chief will take care of her," he tried reasoning.

"That doesn't mean that they won't need help," Rowen told him.

Then Steve stepped in, wiping his hands of the monster he just stuffed in the fridge. "Listen, guys. If the coach calls a play in the game, bottom line, you execute it. Alright?"

"Okay, first of all, this isn't a stupid sports game," Mike bit back. "And second, we're not even in the game. We're on the _bench_."

"Righ-... so my point is..." Steve trailed off, jaw slacked as if he was about to say something, but was reconsidering. "Right. Yeah, we're on the bench. So, uh... there's nothing we can do."

Rowen threw Steve a sarcastic smile. "Nice one."

He returned the expression.

"That's not entirely true." Dustin countered. "I mean, the demodogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away."

"So, if we get their attention..."

"We could draw them away from the lab."

"And clear a path to the gate."

"Yeah, and then we all die!" Steve exclaimed.

Rowen gave the kids confused stares. "Are you sure it's not the four of you that have a hive mind?"

"Rowen, there's no way we could have a hive mind," said Dustin. "We'd have to have a collective consciousness for that to even be possible."

She crossed her arms. "You're finishing each other's sentences. That sounds a lot like a hive mind to me."

"Um, hello? Is no one going to acknowledge the fact that if we do this we could, I don't know... _die_?" Steve held out his arms, looking between all of them. "No? Just me?"

"I mean, it's a possibility, yeah," Rowen told him.

"No, it's not a possibility, Rowen. It's a fact."

"I got it!" Mike suddenly pushed between them, headed quickly towards the back of the house. They followed him into the kitchen where he kneeled in front of one of the drawings on the fridge. "This is where the chief dug his hole," he said, hands placed on top of a red 'X'. This is our way into the tunnels."

Mike moved again, stopping at the edge of the hall. "Here. Right here," he continued, kneeling over a bigger collage of drawings. "This is like a hub. See how all the tunnels feed into here? Maybe if we set this on fire..."

"Uh, yeah. That's a no."

"The Mind Flayer would call away his army..."

"They'd all come to stop us!"

"Guys..."

"Then we'd circle back to the exit. By the time they realize we're gone..."

" _Guys_..."

"El would be at the gate!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Steve shouted above them, clapping his hands until all eyes were on him. He placed his hands on his hips and gestured towards Mike. "This is not happening."

"But-"

"No, no, no, no, no! No buts! I promised I'd keep you shitheads safe and that's exactly what we plan on doing. Rowen told the chief we'd keep you all here so we're staying _here_ on the bench and we're waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand that?"

"This isn't a stupid sports game!"

"I said does everybody _understand that_?" he repeated, flinging the towel that once sat over his shoulder in their faces. "I need a yes."

The kids' silent protests filled the house. They didn't look so willing to give their 'yes' and collapse back onto Mrs. Byers's couch.

"Rowen, would you back me up on this?" Steve asked.

It suddenly occurred to her how quiet she had been on the subject.

As crazy and abrupt as Mike's idea sounded, she found herself thinking about it over and over, not so immediately against it as Steve had been. It seemed they had traded places within the span of a few hours. When Rowen was hesitant on the bus, Steve had been ready to charge without hesitation. Now... now it was almost the other way around.

It's not as if she was tying her laces and preparing herself to meet what they were facing head-on... but she was no longer thinking of luring the demodogs away as stupid anymore, either.

 _He's an idiot, but he can be pretty smart sometimes_.

Five pairs of eyes landed on her and her jaw slacked. She didn't agree with him right away, didn't even nod. Rowen only looked between them all and felt her mind go blank... until it wasn't. Her face contorted into something between hesitant to agree and hesitant to dismiss Mike's plan so quickly. And it landed on Steve.

She wrung her hands, mouth open. "I don't know..."

"What do you mean you 'don't know'? They want to set the tunnels on fire with us _in them_."

"That's not what I said!" Mike argued.

"Yeah, but... what if it's not as crazy as you think?" Rowen offered, gesturing her hands down to the drawing at their feet.

"'Not crazy'?" Steve echoed. "Have you lost it? That's _completely_ crazy."

Rowen threw her hands up slightly. "Maybe I have. I don't know," she said. "But I'd rather lose it then sit on my ass again while everyone else is out there trying to stop these things. Hopper and Eleven might die for all we know."

"Who says they're gonna die?"

"No one! Maybe they won't. Maybe they don't need help at all! But the thing is, we don't know that for sure. So what if they _do_ need help?"

It was clear that Steve didn't know how to answer. His hands rested on his hips once again and his mouth pressed into a thin line. He wasn't convinced either, and Rowen didn't blame him.

"Listen, I know it's stupid," she admitted. "We pretty much did the same thing at the junkyard and _believe me_ when I say I wish that never happened. But..."

"But we didn't know what we were up against then," Dustin finished for her.

"Yes! Thank you."

"When we were on the bus, we were trapped. We didn't have anywhere to go," Lucas added. "That's the difference between that and this. The tunnels give us a way to go in and out so we can escape before the demodogs can get to us. It's safer."

"Lucas that's not safer. That's just a different kind of _stupid_." Steve snapped. "How do you know it won't be any worse than the junkyard?"

"We don't, but that doesn't mean we can't do it," Dustin told him. "We just have to be smart about it this time."

"Exactly!" Mike exclaimed. "If we draw out a path then we'll know where to go. We find the hub, set it on fire and run straight back to the hole before they can catch us."

But Steve silently shook his head in protest.

Rowen turned to him. "Listen, I get why you don't agree with it . . . It _is_ stupid, but it's all we've got," she said. "You can stay here if you want. You can- . . . I don't know, you can tell Hopper I took them to the tunnels. Rat me out for all I care, but if we have any chance of helping them, then I'm taking it."

Truth be told, Rowen wasn't sure how well their plan would go without Steve. Sure, she was determined. The kids were, too and the plan was good, it just needed to be tweaked so they were sure they wouldn't make any mistakes and get one or all of them hurt. It _was_ possible for them to do it without him and Rowen was prepared to do so if he said no.

But, even though Steve may have said she was "good at this", she knew he was better. They needed better, just in case their plan didn't go as smoothly as they hoped. Which was why she was hoping that they somehow convinced him.

His jaw was clenched and he looked like he was mulling it over, at least thinking about it . . . but he didn't have time to answer either way.

Before Steve could even open his mouth, an engine revved outside, far off yet loud and only growing more so. Rowen's feet dragged her towards the front window without thought. She recognized the sound before she could even process what was happening and when she got to the window, spotting headlights head towards them...

_You've got to be kidding._

Her stomach did several consecutive flips and as Max rushed to peek through the window with her, seeing the same, Rowen cursed.

"Shit," she hissed. "It's Billy."


	20. Playing With Fire

Rowen was playing with fire, she knew it.

Getting Billy to go one way or the other was difficult in of itself, even if he wanted to do something. No one told him how things would go. He went by his own terms and if someone didn't understand that right away, then they would eventually; one way or the other. Whether by time or by fist, they would get it.

Over the years it became clear to Rowen that people thought she had it differently. They thought that, in spite of what Billy was so clearly like, she told him what to do as the older sibling and got away with it as easily as he got away with most of that which left him reckless. Those people are idiots, she always told herself.

Billy gave her rides and let her drive his car and they stuck together more than they did with their friends in San Diego and, sure, she may have told him off and attempted at telling him what to do when she felt she had to. But the only difference between her and those who didn't understand right away was that she didn't end up on the floor.

Rowen had the human equivalent of pride for a brother, and if there was one thing she knew she shouldn't do, it was lie to that brother. If Neil Hargrove didn't like being lied to, then the apple did not fall far from the tree when it came to Billy. And Rowen would admit it: she didn't like being lied to either... but that was just it. Where she got defensive and hurt, Billy got angry, using his fists. Rowen yelled, he punched. They were siblings, but they were still different. And if it had been Billy lying to her, she knew the outcome would be different too... but it wasn't. So, she once again found herself looking down the barrel of a gun hoping the trigger wouldn't be pulled.

She thought of this as she stepped out on the porch with one hand on the doorknob, the headlights of his Camaro peering into the window; one which she hoped the kids were not peaking through. The fluorescents flicked off and he stepped out smoothly, but paused where he stood with his fingers wrapped around the cigarette in his mouth as if he was trying to understand what he was seeing.

Billy didn't expect Rowen to be there, and she didn't expect him to expect it. She didn't expect _him_ to be there and she didn't expect _herself_ to do any of this and her words, for once, were not coming to mind so easily.

A "Hey" was all that came out.

"The hell are you doing all the way out here?" he asked, wiggling free of the leather jacket he had wrapped around him.

All Rowen had wrapped around her were her arms, and she was wishing she had her own jacket wrapped around her instead. Her sweater was light and did very little to keep her warm.

The first word that came to mind? "Babysitting."

Billy shut the car door. "Babysitting?" he echoed her cooly, doubtfully. He didn't believe the word. Rowen nodded anyway and he chuckled, muttering through his cigarette, "Our shithead of a stepsister wouldn't happen to be with you, would she?"

Rowen faked confusion, narrowing her eyes at him. "Yeah? She's inside." She gestured to the house behind her. "Why?"

He gave her a look that settled somewhere between doubtful and outright confused. She could see he was thinking, looking from her, to the house, then back at her. Billy's brow raised and he gave a huff of disbelief, almost disgust. "Don't tell me you're babysitting Byers's kid brother."

She shrugged. "So what if I am?"

Originally, Steve had opted to talk to him. He argued that it would be a good idea and Rowen argued that it would be a bad idea and for a moment, she was beginning to wonder if it really was as bad as she thought. Was Steve a good liar or was he worse than she was?... Rowen never gave him the time to say so.

"He can't look after his own brother?"

"Mrs. Byers said he had to work. She stopped by the station and asked if I could keep Will company."

"Then how did Max end up here?"

"She came with me."

"She came with you?" he echoed her again. "When?"

"When do you think? When I came over here. She came by the station before Mrs. Byers did."

He gave her a skeptical look. "Really?"

"Yes, really," she snapped. "What are you doing here anyway? I didn't think you knew where the Byers' lived."

"I didn't," he told her, then cocked a brow as a smirk appeared on his face. "But Karen Wheeler was more than happy to give me directions."

Rowen took a second to take in the grin across his face. She blinked. "You're disgusting."

"I may be disgusting, but you're still bad at lying."

A beat passed, and she smiled in spite of herself. "Why would I be lying?"

"Two reasons," he muttered with the cigarette between his lips. Billy took it between his fingers and pointed it at her. "One, you _hate_ babysitting and two, Mrs. Wheeler told me she hasn't heard anything from the Byers' in a week."

"So?"

"So, if the Wheeler's is where the kid normally stays, then how did she miss them and you didn't?"

Rowen shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"

Billy breathed out a chuckle. "I don't know, but it better be a good reason. I'm not out here 'cause I want to be."

Realization washed across her face, and she scowled. "Dad sent you."

"No shit," Billy deadpanned, stalking up to her. He took his time straying away from the car. "Now, I don't know what kind of reason you have to be somewhere like this, but I know it's not babysitting, so you can drop that-"

"I'm not lying, Billy."

"Then why was your bedroom window open, huh? Why didn't she just walk out the door?"

"How do you know she didn't walk out the door? Maybe she just forgot to close the window."

"We've lived in the same house as her for eight years, Ro. I know the difference between what she does when she goes out, and when she sneaks out."

"Really?"

"Is it that hard to believe that I pay attention?"

"Is it that hard for you to believe I'm actually babysitting right now?"

"Yes."

Rowen took in a deep breath, breathing out through her nose in frustration. Billy backtracked to his car, twirling his keys around his finger. "You're coming back," he ordered, back to her. "Now. You _and_ the shitbird."

But Rowen wasn't moving. There he was: her little brother, blatantly demanding her to do something the same way he had with other people. There he was. ordering her around. It rattled an ire in her, and she ran her hands through her hair before she spoke as if the action would brush all the tension away.

"Billy, I _can't_. I told you-..."

He suddenly rounded on her.

" _No_. No," he almost laughed through his words, but it was a far cry from humorous. "See, this is not another time when you can just get your way," he hissed, getting close enough to jab the bud of his cigarette in her face. "You're not lying your way out of this just so you don't have to deal with him."

She had seen it before, how the bright blue hue they shared darkened in his eyes like thunder clouds rolling in before a great storm. She always thought it was a warning, that last little deterrent that told whoever had fallen under its presence to stand down. _Back off_ , it said. But Rowen wasn't about to listen to it.

"I'm not. Lying," she muttered lowly. She matched his stare and that only seemed to make the anger in his eyes heavier, made his jaw clench as she took in a breath to steady herself. Her hands had balled into fists, and she was clenching them the same way Billy was. They almost mirrored each other.

"Bullshit," he spat, throwing the stub of his cigarette to the ground with more force than was needed. "Listen, I don't care whatever your reason is for lying to me right now, but if you try to make this hellhole even shittier than it already is just so you can get your way again, I swear to God-"

The door behind her suddenly clicked open.

Billy's gaze was torn away from her, and his eyes quickly filled with something other than angry storm clouds. Dare she say something worse.

"Oh Rowen, Rowen, Rowen..." That tone never gave her a good feeling. Billy clicked his tongue. He had an edge on her now, and he knew it. "Babysitting, huh?"

Rowen dared to turn around and look at whoever had opened the door. She was met with the most obvious guess.

"What're you doing here, Harrington?" His tone was falsely cheery, and Rowen bit her lip so she wouldn't blurt out something stupid, yet so tempting to say.

"I could ask the same of you," Steve replied with a raise in his voice as if he was indifferent to the whole thing, but still curious. It was painfully obvious that he wasn't, but then again Rowen knew the truth of their situation. "Rowen here was trying to corral the ruggrats by herself before I showed up..." He slowed when he came close to the siblings, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "...You wanna give us a hand?"

Billy breathed out the slightest laugh. "Oh, no. Between the two of you, I think you have all the hands you need."

Rowen tried her best not to glare in Steve's direction and Steve tried not to falter under her gaze when he glanced at her for the smallest moment. She had never wanted to claw out someone's eyes so badly, but she swallowed that urge and turned her attention back to her brother, trying to keep herself leveled. "Billy, whatever you're thinking, that's not what-"

"No, no- see, now it makes more sense," he interrupted, hand raising, smile widening. "It makes perfect sense, actually. The extra "shifts" on the weekend, his car sitting in front of our house..."

Rowen visibly paled, and it made him grin.

"Bet you thought you were real sneaky with that one," he teased venomously, wagging a finger in her face. It made Rowen's skin crawl. She opened her mouth to counter him, but he interrupted her again. "What? Are you gonna tell me he was the one that came up to you? That you 'didn't ask' to get in his car?"

"Listen, I was just giving her a ride home," Steve jutted in. "Alright? That was it."

"And why was that?" Billy inquired, a little too comically.

Rowen curled her lip. She felt her nails dig into her palms.

Billy lifted his hand once more. "You know what? I don't need to know," he told Steve quickly, suddenly backtracking to the driver's side of his car. "You don't need to tell me at all, actually. All I gotta do is tell my old man about your little adventure here and he'll come cruising down here himself."

Rowen's heart jumped at the mention of their dad. "Billy..." she spoke in a warning tone as best she could, but it only came out pleading. Rowen was aware that he had a knack for pulling her leg... but that was the thing. He had a knack for pulling her leg whether he was being honest or not. He could just as easily be completely and totally serious right now.

"Billy, what?" he hissed, rounding on her. "Billy, what? ...Billy, 'I don't want you to tell him'?"

"No-"

"No what?"

"No, I don't want you to tell him-"

His brow raised in an exaggerated fashion. "Oh, you don't? You don't want me to tell him?"

" _No_ , Billy! I don't."

A beat passed and Billy nodded. "Okay." Then his grin fell into a straight line, and he gestured to the Camaro. "Then get in the car."

She glanced between him and the Camaro.

"Billy, I'm not kidding," she told him firmly, trying it one more time. "I promised I'd watch these kids."

"You still wanna play that card? Really?" he snapped. Billy stepped close enough to where he was in her face, and said lowly, "If I were you, I'd stop before I dug myself any deeper."

The siblings fell into a staredown.

Rowen took in a breath, and said it again, "I'm not lying..."

Billy laughed almost menacingly. "Really? You're not lying? You're not lying?!" His voice escalated with every word that came out of his mouth, and Rowen matched it.

"I'm not lying!" she barked.

"Really?!"

"Really!"

Somewhere, in the midst of their yelling, Billy had grabbed at his sister's wrists. He clamped down on her much smaller arms and spun them around so Rowen was backed into the front of the Camaro. They were struggling against each other; Rowen pushing and pulling and Billy only making his grip tighter.

"You're not lying?!" he shouted.

"I'm not lying!" Rowen shouted back, shaking her wrists but having no effect on his grip. "I'm not fucking lying!"

Somehow her last words had reduced Billy to silence, and he faltered back to staring, glaring at her because she wouldn't give it up.

"Get the hell off of me," she muttered, yanking her wrists out of his fists forcefully. The way she pushed at his grip forced him to take a step back, but Billy continued to glare, to give her that intruding look he always gave other people when he was trying to make a decision. Was she in the clear or was she in deep shit; that's what it said.

Billy wiped at his chin where drool had spit out, then pointed beside her. "Get in the car," he muttered, turning on his heel to march towards the Byers' house. Even with foul mouths like theirs, cussing at each other wasn't something they did. Rowen broke that.

She should have moved to stop him, but her heart was pounding and her legs felt numb. Her wrists twitched with a familiar ache that made it hard to snap out of it.

"Hey, woah, woah, woah. Where do you think you're going?"

Despite Steve's reluctance to intervene, he began striding after Billy and caught the teen before he could reach the Byers' front door.

"Getting my stepsister." Billy almost growled out his words, pushing him out of the way.

"And what?" Steve barked, gripping at his shoulder.

The Californian whipped around to face him, brow raised in a challenging manner. "You wanna say that again?"

"And _what_?" Steve repeated. "What are you gonna do? You're just gonna drag them back like they're your little puppets?"

"Are you gonna stop me?"

Steve snapped, pushing at Billy's chest roughly.

The latter staggered back a little, but it only made him laugh. "Ooh," he cooed. "You got a little fire in you, don't you, Harrington? You gonna fight back?" He pushed at Steve's chest with twice the force. "I wouldn't."

Steve pushed at him once more without hesitation. "Or what? _What_? Are you gonna boss me around too? Huh?" They pushed at each other until one knocked the other off his feet. The bickering stopped, the pushing stopped, but it was far from over.

Steve got up, Billy swung his fist, and she heard a crack.

_two:_

She wasn't sure how it ended. One minute she was yelling in her brother's face, the next she was trying to peel him off of Steve. Now she was in the Byers' living room, gazing at two knocked out teens; one with cuts and bruises, the other with a syringe resting in his hand.

Rowen was jolted out of her daze when Billy took a swing at Steve's face, knocking him over, lunging at each other until they tumbled into the house in front of four kids. They had yelled at the two to stop, but to no avail. Max had jabbed the syringe in her stepbrother's neck, threatened him with a nailed baseball bat of all things. She told him to stay away, to quit pushing her around, to quit pushing Rowen around. The redhead was especially loud about the last.

Rowen wasn't sure if his delirious state was what pushed him, or if Max's sheer intimidation had gotten through... but she found she didn't really care.

"What happened to your wrists?"

Mike was the one to ask, breaking the unsettling silence that had wrapped itself around the five of them. No one knew what to say. Rowen didn't know how to answer. She looked down at that which he pointed out, seeing the red marks across them and, out of habit, pulled her sleeves down. "It doesn't matter," she told him after a moment, finally moving away from the scene they all stared at. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."

Rowen kneeled down next to a completely unconscious Steve... but the kids didn't move. Max approached her.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Rowen muttered.

"Are you sure-"

"I said I'm fine."

"Ro, he..." Max threw a glance over her shoulder towards the boys, as if making sure they weren't listening was a priority. She knew it didn't matter, but she did it out of habit. "You were screaming at each other," she said quietly, gazing up at her stepsister with a worry that was reserved for their room when the door was shut and voices rattled the other side. "What did he do?"

Rowen paused in her attempt to get Steve up into a sitting position and gave the redhead a hard stare. "Max, can we drop it?" she muttered through clenched teeth. "Please?"

Max's concern didn't waver, but neither did Rowen. Eventually, the former was the first to look away. Max glanced down at the ground and then at Steve's limp form, then stepped back a few paces before Dustin announced he was going to find some bandaids.

"Help me get him in the backseat first," Rowen told them, her voice suddenly authoritative without any effort. "You can patch him up on the way, okay? We need to go."

Dustin paused in his movements and the boys immediately moved into action, however reluctant to carry a teenager out by his legs, lifting him up by his shoes and failing. Rowen had Lucas come up beside her to help carry his upper body, and Mike and Dustin eventually resorted to lifting his legs. Max gathered bandaids and whatever she could, snatching Billy's keys from his pocket and opening the front door of the Byers'.

Once they reached the car, Steve was hauled into the back first, then the supplies in the trunk, then the kids in the back. The boys had almost sparked an argument between themselves on who got shotgun, but one look from Rowen and they shut their mouths, squishing into the back, squishing an unconscious Steve between them.

The back doors shut and Rowen opened hers, but Max stood at the passenger side, unmoving. That same concern still settled itself in her gaze; a blue gaze that was bright, even in the dark. It was something she and Rowen shared, and when she was little that had been enough for her to call her sister instead of stepsister; it was still enough.

"You sure you wanna do this?" she asked, her voice smaller than she intended it to be. It didn't matter, really. Rowen still heard her and still glanced over the hood with that same, bright blue gaze.

A few beats passed before she nodded. "Yeah," Rowen replied. "I'm sure."

_three:_

She was beginning to feel a headache creep up.

"Okay, I take it back. This is the worst idea."

Rowen had a full ten minutes of nothing but quiet murmurs and muffled yelps from the backseat to gather herself. It was idle in the slightest, but she appreciated it a little, at least, to have a moment to collect and forcefully push away everything she dealt with not even half an hour ago to the recesses of her mind. She didn't need to dwell on it; she didn't have time to.

"You didn't have to come." Mike's uncanny, sassy tone filled her ears and she let out a sad example of a snort.

Rowen couldn't do much of anything else with how drained she felt. They still had so much more to do, and yet she was already so _tired_. But that didn't mean her common sense was dulled.

"And let you guys walk in the dark when there are monsters on the loose? Hell no."

"We wouldn't have walked," said Lucas. "We would've taken the car."

"Taken the car and what?" she sassed weakly. "None of you are old enough to drive."

"Max does."

"Max moved twenty feet in a parking lot. That's not driving."

"See? I told you," Mike said.

"Shut up, Mike," Lucas snapped.

"Don't tell me to shut up!"

Rowen only had to glare in the rearview mirror to reduce the backseat to silence once more. She mentally nodded in approval at their shut mouths and glanced over to Max. "How far is this hole Hopper dug anyway?"

"We still have a mile to go," she said, ruffling the map so much that it folded in front of her face. Max forced it down, crumpling it loudly, making one unconscious teen in the back stir.

"How can you even tell?" Mike asked.

"Because I can, genius."

"You're not even holding it right," he chided. "It's sideways."

Max was about to retort, but she moved the map around once more and glared at it. After a few seconds, with a huff, she turned it right-side up.

Rowen sideglanced at the map. "Okay, _now_ how much further do we have?" she asked.

"It's still a mile," Max said in a sing-song tone, throwing a look towards Mike, who rolled his eyes behind them. "Okay, so... just keep going for half a mile and then... at the next intersection, you're gonna make a left on Mount Sinai."

"Nancy?" a weary voice piped up.

"No, don't touch it." Dustin's words signaled that Steve was now awaking... or trying to. She heard him murmur and groan, at the pain in his head, no doubt. "Heyyy, buddy," Dustin cooed. "It's okay. You put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight."

"What's going on?"

Rowen didn't have to turn around in her seat to know Steve was still a little scatterbrained. Billy never left a fight without littering those he swung his fists at with cuts and bruises, dizziness and headaches, and Steve was no exception. Billy pounded at his face over and over, leaving him decorated with multi-colored bandaids and a swelled up nose. If anything, Rowen was surprised it wasn't worse... that he came out without a serious head injury or something broken.

Dustin continued to hush him, but it did nothing. Steve only asked louder.

Maybe he did come out with a head injury. He sounded winded. Rowen found it hard to focus on the road with the repetition, Steve's voice cracking, in a state of panic. She didn't know why he was panicking.

"Rowen watch out!"

Not until she was suddenly swerving away from a mailbox. Rowen jerked at the wheel, the car repositioned onto the road, everyone in the backseat yelled.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"What happened?"

"What's going on?!"

"Nothing- nothing. I-... I just got distracted for a second. Sorry."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Max."

"Steve, calm down," Dustin tried. "She just got distracted."

"Stop the car!"

"Can someone make him _shut up_?!" Rowen snapped. "I'm trying not to crash here!"

"We're trying, okay?!"

"Rowen, make a left!"

"What?"

"Make a left! _Now_!"

"Shit-..."

The wheel twisted and the car swung hard, down a narrow street, between a thick array of trees which seemed to go on and on as if they were a blue needle in a green and brown haystack. The boys jumped in their seats, Rowen shouted at them to shut up... again.

She drove straight until it cleared, gripped at the wheel until something crunched under the tires, and all the attention focused on her anxiousness was directed towards whatever it was they rolled over. The Camaro drove ontop of new, bumpy ground and she hadn't realized she had just narrowly missed a sign until Max jerked her head to the right and let out a mumbled "Jesus", and they skidded past it into a patch; a patch owned by a farmer who would most likely be very angry to find tire tracks all over his property.

With Billy's unusually bright headlights, Rowen was able to spot the giant dip in the bumpy field they came upon before they could roll right into it, noting Hopper's SUV sitting to the left, all by its lonesome.

The second the car was still, their group began to file out, limbs flailing and swears being thrown at each other as the boys tried climbing out all at once. Max and Rowen took a moment to enjoy it.

"You guys could help us, you know!"

"No, I think we're good," Rowen said, unable to hide the humor in her voice.

Finally, the boys managed to detach themselves and escape the car in a civil manner. The kids moved to the back of the trunk that Rowen had unlocked amidst the short-lived backseat issue, grabbing their gear along with various cans of gasoline. Max handed her a pair of goggles and she stretched them over her head.

Then she heard a thud, turning her attention to the passenger door. Steve all but tumbled out, palms landing flat on the soil.

"Guys..." He barely formed the word, but was able to push himself up, getting a clear view of what was going on. "Oh no," he mumbled. "Hey!... Hey, where do you think you're going?"

Mike passed him first, but ignored the teen almost faithfully.

"What are you, deaf? Helloooo..."

The rest of the kids only followed his lead, and Steve only got louder.

"We are _not_ going down there right now. I make myself clear! There is no chance we're going through that hole, alright? This ends _right now!_ "

"Steve!" Rowen shouted, gaining his attention. "Listen, I'm not saying this is a smart idea, but we're already here. _We're doing it_."

"Rowen's right, Steve," Dustin chimed in. "I know you're upset, but bottom line: a party member requires assistance and it is our duty to provide that assistance."

Without missing a beat, the thirteen-year-old followed his friends and began helping with the rope now tied to Billy's car.

Rowen went to close the trunk, but paused when Steve leaned against the passenger door. She took in his very disheveled appearance. His hair fell over his eyes, his jacket was dirty, one of the bandaids Dustin stuck to his face was beginning to fall off. He looked like he was tossed into hell and barely managed to crawl out... It wasn't too far from the truth.

She tilted her head. "You believe me now?"

"Believe you now what?" he breathed.

"When I said he would pound you into the floor."

Steve looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but he could only do so much with the one that was swelling shut.

"I told you he would."

"And what are you gonna tell me now? That I was an idiot?" He huffed, gripping at the car door. "I got my ass kicked, so what?... Someone's gotta stand up to him."

Rowen toyed with the goggles in her hand, but she didn't say anything.

"Or wait, no, I know! You were gonna tell me I should've minded my own business, right? Like those other times when you basically told me to go screw myself and acted like you had a stick up your butt."

Rowen clenched her jaw, but she glanced out at the pasture and shook her head, not even attempting at a retort. For the first time, she actually wanted to do anything but fire back at him. She was tired, agitated, shaken, and a whole plethora of other feelings she didn't want to dive into. She was somewhere between sick and ready to scream and it made arguing with Steve look even less appealing than it had already been. Anything seemed better; even this crazy, life-threatening plan they were going through with.

With a defeated sigh through her mouth and an upward tilt of her head, Rowen glared at the stars, then stepped away from the back of the car, towards him. "Sober up, Sunglasses. We've got a hole to climb into," she told him, shoving a pair of goggles, a bandana, and his backpack into his hands.

She knew he wasn't drunk- in fact, he sounded sharper than he usually was -but she went with those words anyway. He was dazed, and sometimes that felt very close to being buzzed. He was saying things she had a feeling he probably would have been too flustered to say otherwise.

She trailed back to where she previously stood, grabbed her own gear, and prepared to leave it at that... but then Rowen remembered what she had meant to say before he cut her off, and she looked over her shoulder. "And I was gonna say thanks, actually," she told him, shutting the trunk to make her way towards that which the kids were already descending into. "But, hey, who would expect that from a girl with a stick up her butt, right?"

Rowen slipped her goggles over her eyes and tied the bandana around her neck, pulling it over her mouth to rest on the bridge of her nose. Mike and Lucas were already below them, but she adjusted Dustin's before he could slide down the rope, let him go down, then did the same with Max. The rope was secured tightly around the bumper of Billy's car and so far it had held up as the kids gripped at it. She assumed it would be able to hold her weight; she wasn't that much heavier than them. Steve, however, had a few inches on her, and he weighed way more. It was because of this that she made him climb down before her so she could make sure the rope wouldn't snap after all of them were in the tunnels.

The gloves on her hands made it easier for her to go slowly, and she was glad she went slowly. The tunnels went farther down than she had assumed, and when she dropped, she had to brace herself. She should have braced herself for what she was about to see, too, but instead, she found herself gaping behind her bandana.

"What the hell..."

She didn't expect the tunnels to look so much like... well, actual tunnels. With everything she saw before and everything Dustin described to her, she expected it to be less familiar. The vines were new, and the floating specks definitely weren't something you would see in normal tunnels- or at least she assumed, considering she had never been in one -but other than that, it looked totally and completely familiar. Blue... but, you know, familiar.

She didn't expect them to be so intricate, either. They looked like a well-planned system thought through and dug carefully... and it made her nervous. If the Demogorgon and the demodogs and the shadow monster had been simple, dumb beasts, she assumed she would have felt safer, but these things weren't stupid. They were intelligent... dare she say clever.

The kids waved around their lights and Rowen was able to catch glimpses of wiggly, blue tendrils across the walls and along the floor... or the bottom... the ground? Or was it all just vines? She couldn't tell.

"Uh... yeah. I'm pretty sure it's this way," Mike said in front of them, pointing his flashlight forward.

"You're pretty sure, or you're sure-"

"I'm a hundred percent sure! Just follow me and you'll know!"

He began trekking up and over a large cluster of vines, intending to go down the path before them, but then Steve waved his light at his back.

"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. I don't think so," he called out, taking a large step and plopping next to the thirteen-year-old. Goggles covered his eyes, but she knew he was glaring behind them. "Any of you little shits die down here and I'm getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?"

Rowen placed a hand on her hip. "You realize if _you_ die down here, then _I'm_ getting the blame, right?" she asked.

"Then don't let me die!" Steve called from the front, waving his flashlight in the air.

Rowen shook her head and rolled her eyes for the second time in the past five minutes, grumbling under her breath about how she would do the exact opposite of not letting him die, or at least let him trip over a vine, wailing and flailing, to see what happens.

A weird squish of blue vines under tennis shoes emitted from her side and she was brought out of her mumbling and grumbling, turning her attention to a near-still redhead who looked at her through her orange goggles. Max was staring at her.

"What?"

The girl abruptly shook her head and turned away. "Nothing." Max's voice was unusually high-pitched, but Rowen didn't push it. Excluding Mike, she urged the kids to go in front of her so she could act is the caboose, watching their backs, while Steve stood upfront, keeping an eye on what they approached. They weaved through and climbed over the vines as if they were hiking a slippery, squishy trail, and at some put along the way, Rowen began to wonder if that one tunnel would ever end. They had gone in a straight line for many minutes until they reached a fork.

They turned right, then left, and she was beginning to feel anxious about the distance between them and the rope. What if one of those demodog things found it and bit at it? What if they yanked it off of the car above and tore it to pieces so they couldn't climb up?

She didn't even know if any of them were in the tunnels, nevermind if they found their means of escape.

"AHHH, SHIT! SHIT! HELP!" Dustin suddenly screamed and it made them all spin on their feet, heading back to where he had stopped. Somehow she hadn't realized he had fallen behind, and now they were stumbling as he stumbled. Dustin tripped over his feet and it made them gasp at different levels, extending out hands that were pulled back just as quickly.

"What happened?!"

Rowen squatted down beside him to make sure he hadn't gotten cut or scratched up, but his gloves and goggles were still intact, and none of his clothing was torn. All he did was rip the bandana away from his mouth and press his hands onto the tunnel floor to brace himself. He coughed, then eventually began to heave.

"It's in my mouth- it's in my mouth! SHIIIT!"

They waited until his heaving calmed down to small wheezes and his breathing returned to normal, keeping the flashlights on him even as he lifted his head. Dustin glanced between the five of them, then took in a breath and nodded. "I'm okay."

They all groaned through their masks.

"Are you serious?"

"Nice, man. Very funny."

Rowen let out her own deeply aggravated sigh and let the light in her hand plop down into her lap. "C'mon, Mr. Over-dramatic," she told him, helping Dustin up by the arm.

They resumed their trek through the tunnels, going in a straight line once more until they turned again, and again, and again. Every tunnel looked exactly the same, so how they were able to march through them with a makeshift map and avoid getting lost, she wasn't sure. For a moment she was positive they had gotten lost, but then Steve took one large step, wavered, then halted once he regained his balance. The kids gathered up beside him, Rowen behind him, and six flashlights trailed around one large, open space with twice the paths circling it and double the vines on the floor.

"Alright, Wheeler," he announced. "I think we found your hub."

If they didn't,

Mike nodded with a newfound determination. "Let's drench it."

And so they did. Every one of them had carried a tank of gasoline down into the tunnels, and every one of them doused the hub from top to bottom; every last vine, speck, foreign and not so foreign item that squished between the tendrils. Seeing objects that looked earthly- a stuffed animal, gum wrappers, cigarettes -made Rowen wonder just how many people had come down here... or had been dragged here. She hadn't really thought of it until then and it made her shiver just the slightest.

They continued to douse anything and everything until the tanks were bone dry, making sure every square inch of this 'hub' was covered. Once they were satisfied, the kids climbed up to a safe distance, then Rowen, then Steve. He pulled out his lighter, hesitated... "I'm in such deep shit."

The minute the piece came in contact with the floor, the vines caught flame. They wriggled up in what seemed to be pain, twitching and thrashing and emitting a shriek so inhuman that she covered her ears. The vines were alive, just like the demodogs, just like the shadow monster... Mike was right. It was one huge hivemind.

Steve immediately began ushering them back into the tunnel, urging them to hurry and run and rush back the way they came. She had no idea where they were going, no idea which path to take. Steve fought to keep himself calm enough to read the map, making sure they didn't take a wrong turn.

They paused just for a moment before he told them to go one way. Rowen didn't think to reposition herself at the back. Everyone was running as fast as they could over the bumpy floor of the tunnels, and she failed to notice how Mike had fallen until he started screaming for help.

It didn't take long to free him from the vine that had wrapped itself around his leg. Steve whacked at it with all his might and the kids immediately rushed to help their friend; even Max.

"Mike, are you okay?" Rowen asked him urgently. "Are you okay?"

She didn't have to take off his goggles to know he had been shaken, which is exactly why she gave him a once over and asked him so quickly. He managed a nod between the huddle of his friends.

Now that Mike was on his feet, they prepared to make a run for it once more.

"Guys we gotta go. We gotta go now!"

A sudden roar silenced them. Rowen jumped as the rest of them did, and the group turned around to face the very thing they were trying to get away from. The very thing she hoped wouldn't find them while they were down there. She tensed, and the kids huddled closer together... all except for Dustin.

He stood in front of them, gaze pinned on the demodog before him, and said, "Dart?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have absolutely no excuse for taking this long to update other than the fact that my muse just decided to plummet. you guys have every right to hunt me down and make me pay for it.
> 
> but heyyy, long time no see! my return came with quite the overwhelming chapter. apologies if it made you sad BUT, it had to be done. rowen and billy's relationship was headed down the wrong path long before she got involved with the upside down and i think the tension of having to keep an enormous secret was very much needed. it brought out billy's true colors . . or at least brought out things rowen didn't realize he was thinking.
> 
> sorry i stopped on a cliffhanger . . again . . it was necessary . . also i didn't want this chapter to be longer than it needed to be. the next chapter will be a "part 2", i suppose, to this one. also sorry x2 for any grammar mistakes. this chapter was kind of rushed because im currently trying to balance writing and a public speaking class im taking for the summer. i will make sure to give this chapter a critical once over after my week's work is done.
> 
> i would love to hear from you guys! please go spam the comment section and let me in on your thoughts! is there anything you want to know? might be hoping for?


	21. Jelly Legs

If there was ever a time she felt like taking a monster head-on . . . this was the time.

Decked out in what she could only call a flimsy excuse for protection, staring at what was around three times bigger than the memory of what had etched itself into her brain, and all she wanted to do was throw caution to the wind, yank the spiked bat from Steve's grip, and take a swing at what only days ago would have taken a bite out of her. She wanted to do it . . . in a fit of sudden courage, or maybe rage, oh did she want to do it.

"Rowen _shut. Up_."

"That _thing_ almost ate my face off!" she whisper-yelled, an accusing arm thrusting through the spore-infested air a little too dramatically.

"Who cares?!" Mike snapped.

" _I do!_ " This time her yell came out fully.

Dart growled, the kids flinched, and just as quickly as she had opened her covered mouth was it doubly covered by a gloved hand she couldn't get away from; though that didn't keep her from grunting inaudible words behind Steve's freakishly strong grip, pinched eyebrows and all, completely oblivious to the way Dustin was removing his mask and cooing to the very creature she wanted to sucker punch.

His choice to take the peaceful route and attempt to somehow calm Dart down to the point of obliviousness per use of food didn't reach her attention until he had begun to do it . . . against the protests of his friends, against the rows of teeth dangerously close to his face. If Rowen had been paying attention to him instead of the fact that Steve had the audacity to clamp her mouth shut by wrapping his arm around her neck and stuffing the bandana she had over her face between her lips, then she probably would have forgone the urge to slam nails into an alien head and drag Dustin back by his backpack instead.

And yet, life was funny . . . that is, if funny meant completely missing a thirteen-year-old successfully attempt to sway a monster's attention down to a candy bar, and being dragged quietly past said monster with a glove over your mouth until you reached a safe distance. If that was what it meant then, yes, life was funny, though Rowen could not and would never find such a statement agreeable.

She found it more agreeable that life was most certainly not funny, and that they would no less find themselves lacking limbs, vital organs, more notably their lives if they didn't run through these freakish, spore-infested blue tunnels as fast as they could before they came face to face with what would most likely be a whole herd of Darts, who unlike him, would not be so easily swayed by sweets.

They would much rather chomp at their ankles, and it only made her run faster, push the kids along quicker.

"Come on, let's go!"

 _Left, right. Left, right. Left, right._ A simple action had become a repeated pattern in her head, telling herself to put one foot after the other just so she was able to think straight, even if only a little. It kept her mind clear . . . but still, it was becoming increasingly hard to focus despite the simplicity of what they needed to do: get out of there, and get out of there quickly.

The tunnels shook then. The kids lost their balance, their running came to a clumsy halt. Clumsy, at least, in Rowen's case. Everyone else had braced themselves, but one misstep and she found herself slammed against a wall, squishy and porous, grimacing at that which stuck to her gloves. It felt more like the inside of a mouth than a tunnel.

Then a growl came . . .

"What was that?"

Then another . . . and another, and another until they formed a chorus of unearthly sounds, echoing just as they did in the junkyard. Only now, she realized, they were much closer . . . _They're coming_. The demodogs were coming.

"Run _. . . Run_!"

They made a break for it.

One gloved and goggled body after the other made a beeline for the rope that dangled helplessly in the midst of a blue maze, trailing up to their only means of escape, their only way out of this place, rushing . . . or rather shimmying up as fast as they possibly could.

Steve lifted Max up first, then one boy, then another, until he was left with Dustin. But this gloved and goggled body, to her annoyance, refused to go up before herself or Steve.

"Dustin now is not the time to be stubborn!"

"Now is not the time to be irrational, either! You can climb up way faster than me, I'll only increase you guys' chance of being eaten if I go first!"

"I don't care! Get your butt up the rope, now! Go!"

"Not before you!"

"All right, that's it." With one final statement, Steve lifted him up by his knees as he did with the rest of them, protests and squirms against his bandaged head until Mike and Lucas shouted some sense into their friend and began to help him up.

The thing is . . . even if Dustin had wanted to get out of there as fast as possible, he would still struggle to get up. Even if they were being chased by something so incredibly terrifying, he would still struggle to get up.

But that was just it: they _were_ being chased and he _did_ want to get out of there as fast as possible, but Rowen and Steve were still down there and climbing rope was not his forte, even with all the help in the world. And that was all Rowen could think about, getting him up there where it was safe because those kids came first and those kids deserved to be safe way more than she did.

Hopper said it without saying it: _keep them safe_ , whether in a house with a hand-drawn maze or a labyrinth of tunnels because they had an idea too good to pass up, and that was all Rowen could think about. She didn't even realize how close the demodogs actually were, ushering Dustin to go so she and Steve could climb, as oblivious as she was when a glove covered her mouth.

The kids only continued to yell, shout, tell them to hurry up . . . but she hadn't realized Max had been screaming for her, didn't realize the demodogs were on them until she was suddenly jerked away from the rope, until she yelped because something wrapped around her waist. And for a split second, she thought it had been one of _them_ , until she found that that grip had only kept her from falling on top of _them_ , into a herd that wasn't even giving her or Steve a second glance.

The demodogs were running right past them . . . running and running and running, continuing to come by the dozen; how many of them were there? . . . Not enough for her to compose herself before they were suddenly gone, until there was nothing but little, floating spores and the defining silence that came with the relief that they were still _alive_. Were they alive?

"Rowen?" Dustin tried. "Steve? . . . You- you guys are still alive, right?- Ow! What the hell, Lucas?!"

"You think they'd be standing if they weren't alive?"

"Oh, and you're so knowledgeable about these things?"

Yup, definitely alive.

"Rowen, are you okay?" Max asked from above, over the arguing that had now commenced right next to her.

"I think," Rowen said; though, admittedly, she felt as if she was somewhere between dazed and ready to fall, finding it hard to breathe, wondering why . . . until she remembered the grip around her middle- one that had previously been around her mouth. She said, "Steve, I think you can let me go now."

He did so in one embarrassment-fueled movement.

"Steve? What about you?" Dustin's voice was so pent-up with worry that she would have found it endearing had she not been struggling to focus on much of anything, only that she had not been eaten.

"Yeah," Steve breathed, gloved hands eventually resting against his knees. "Yeah, I'm good."

Rowen wagged a gloved hand at nothing in particular. "Why did they, uh . . . not . . . you know . . ."

Steve lifted his head, saying, "Tear us into bits and pieces?"

"Yeah . . ." Rowen squinted behind her goggles. "Yeah, that."

"It was Eleven," Mike said. "It's gotta be. She must've known you guys were still down there."

" _How_? She- . . ." she breathed, surveying the blue tunnel and its emptiness. "She's not even here."

"She must've sensed you or something," Dustin tried, turning to his friends. "You know? Like how she found Will last year, in the kiddie pool."

"She can _sense_ people?"

"Yeah- well . . . sort of, I think. It's a long story."

Rowen flung her hands up, though outwardly, it had barely been a shrug. "Why am I not surprised . . ." With one final exhale behind her bandana, she moved towards the rope, tugged at it . . . quickly began to dread it. Having her nerves ransacked with the idea of being that close to turning into monster food and her arms and legs immediately fell limp in a way that resembled jello; not an idle feeling when a rope stood as her only way out.

"You need help?" she heard Steve ask.

"No- no, I got it . . ." Rowen took in a deep breath, let it out. "Just need to remember to breathe- . . ." at this, she tightened her grip around the rope, then hoisted herself up as much as she could. Rope climbing was not idle and it was clear in the way she grunted under her breath in frustration, struggling. By the time she started having difficulty, she was too far up for Steve to help, though Max grabbed at her arm without a second thought, helped her up the incline until she could dig her feet into the dirt. Rowen plopped onto the field once she reached the top, the muscles in her arms relaxing happily.

Sweat clung to what felt like every inch of her under the set of goggles, bandana, and gloves, and the "gear" was removed with great enthusiasm, discarded somewhere in the dirt behind her as Steve climbed up with much less effort than she.

She had half a mind to get up right then and there, climb back into the driver's seat of her brother's car and get as far from that pumpkin patch as humanly possible . . . but somehow the feeling of jelly limbs and overwhelming nerves felt heavier now that she was above ground. They didn't know if it was over- if things were _really_ over, if Eleven had succeeded in closing the gate; they couldn't unless they had a walkie, of which were neither with them nor at the Byers' house . . . so what was the point of rushing back so quickly? What was the point unless someone was there waiting for them- . . .

 _Shit_ , she thought. _Billy. What am I gonna do about Billy?_

"Guys c'mon, we gotta get out of here."

She didn't know what she was going to do with her brother; she had no clue, with his unconscious form and his Camaro both at the Byer's, because somehow she and Steve had switched rolls once they climbed out of that giant hole- him alert and ready to go and her half there, half ready to pass out for a multitude of reasons.

Maybe life _was_ funny- just a little -because while she was the one still sitting in the dirt, it was Steve who had had a plate smashed over his head.

"Ro, c'mon," Max stood there at her side with two sets of "gear" under her arm, shaking her shoulder, ready to help her up. Rowen didn't need it, but she took her stepsister's hand anyway.

"I'll drive," Steve announced.

"Oh, no no no, I don't think so," she called out, jelly legs and nerves suddenly gone, carrying her away from Max and straight to Steve who, somewhere between collapsing in the dirt and heading for the Camaro, had snatched the keys. Rowen swiped them from his hand.

"Hey-"

" _I'm_ driving. You're going back to the backseat."

"Rowen, I can drive," he insisted.

"Uh, no, you can't, and you're not. Not when I'd like to live to see tomorrow," she pressed. "Billy beat you until you were raw, I'm surprised you don't have a concussion or something."

"Guys- . . ."

"Yeah, well, I don't, and you're out of it, so let me drive."

"I'm not out of it, I'm fine."

"Guys!" Dustin shouted.

" _What?_ "

All he did was point a finger at the car, bathed in the glow of the headlights and- wait . . . why were they getting brighter? Rowen squinted at them, eventually shielded her eyes because the light was so intense- so _strangely_ intense; she had never known them to get that bright, and no one was in the car.

 _Could it be?_ They went out as fast as the light had stretched, glowed to the point where the whole field was alight, she supposed. Now it was dark . . . cold, quiet dark with dim headlights, without an explanation. Rowen stopped expecting explanations after Dustin tried and failed to tell the story of Eleven and the 'Upside Down' as simply as he could . . . but she couldn't help but wonder.

"Do you think? . . ." Mike was the one to ask, quiet and still but as filled with hope as she supposed she had ever seen in the few days she knew him.

Keys squeezed under her grip, Rowen said, "Maybe . . ." Setting the lingering jelly feeling aside, she marched towards the driver's side of the car, yanked the door open. "Let's go."

They moved like a unit.

ii:

To her relief, just as they were the last to leave, they were the first to come back. The Byer's house was all but gone to the world, lights dim per view of the broken window, the front door shut tight . . . and then there was Billy, bloody and passed out inside, lying in the same spot he had been when they left him.

Rowen was amazed he was still unconscious. "Jesus," she muttered. "How long does that stuff last?"

"What stuff?" Steve asked.

"That stuff in the needle Max stuck him with."

He turned his attention to the girl in question. "You stuck him with a needle?"

"It was either that or let him smash your face in," Max said. Bandanas and bags were dropped to the floor, and she abandoned them to stand next to Rowen. "What are we gonna do with him?"

"Mrs. Byers doesn't have a cellar anywhere, does she?"

" _Steve_ ," Rowen hissed.

"What?"

"We could lock him in a closet," Dustin suggested.

"Or drop him off in the middle of nowhere," Mike added.

"What- guys, c'mon!"

"We could park his car in the pumpkin patch and leave him there."

"Guys!" Rowen spoke over their suggestions, glaring between them. "We are _not_ locking him in a cellar, _or_ a closet, or dropping him off in the middle of nowhere, okay?"

"Why not?" Mike challenged.

"Yeah," said Lucas. "He bodyslammed me into a cabinet, kicked Steve's ass, and almost threw you across the front yard."

"That doesn't mean we should throw him out on his ass."

"That's exactly what it means!" said Mike.

"Well, we're not doing it, okay?"

" _Why?_ "

" _Because_. . ."

"Uh, guys . . ." Max interrupted. They paused upon hearing a stirring, turned to see her staring at her stepbrother, no longer completely limp.

"Shit," Rowen muttered, quickly walking over to where Billy was. "Shit, shit, shit, okay, uh . . . Max! Max, where's the needle you stuck him with?"

"You wanna stick him _again_?" Dustin asked.

"You got a better idea?" she snapped, to which he raised his hands in surrender, standing with Mike and Lucas who, unlike him, hadn't protested against the idea. Max had already jumped into action, finding the needle and then the bottle it had sat next to. Rowen took it, stabbed it into the opening, drew out more of whatever it was that had knocked her brother out, set the bottle aside, then went over to him.

She had only ever seen how someone stuck a needle, flinching at the feeling of it going into her arm rather than doing it herself, then getting a treat afterward; she was seven, then, and she hated needles. She still hated them, and it made it no less difficult as she stuck it into Billy's arm as best as she could.

His incoherent mumbling and shifting stopped within the minute, and he was dead to the world once more.

She let out a breath of relief.

"Still think we should've locked him in a closet or something."

iii:

They had resorted to leaning Billy against the side of the couch- not on it, because it was concluded that that was to be saved for Will when he would come back and there was no way her 'douche-bag brother' was gonna bleed all over it. He wasn't really bleeding anywhere, but Rowen didn't bother to point that out.

Nancy and the Byers' came back first, pointed out by Dustin who faithfully peaked through the window which had been patched up with duck-tape and cardboard. They were sweaty, _very_ sweaty, weary and ready to collapse, and had Mrs. Byers not worn a tear-filled smile across her small face, Rowen would have thought the worst because at first glance, Will looked just as limp as Billy.

But he was okay; he was extremely tired and too weak to do much of anything as Jonathan held him in his arms, but he was okay. She understood why Mike thought he would need the couch.

Jonathan was the first to ask about her brother because to him, it seemed, Billy stuck out like a sore thumb; nothing really seemed to escape Jonathan's attention, anyway. Mrs. Byers didn't notice until her son pointed it out, and Nancy was too worn out to really care, but the mother took both Rowen's calm explanation and Dustin's rushed one gladly, and Mrs. Byers told her it was okay . . . _As long as she got him out of their house_.

She planned to. She would have done it already had Eleven and Hopper already been there . . . but she wanted to wait for them, and Mrs. Byers said she didn't want her to leave so soon anyhow.

"I think it'd be better if you waited till Hopper got here," she had told her. "He'll know what to do."

So she did; she waited and waited and it felt like an eternity because the house was silent aside from pointless arguments and a little chatter. Rowen retreated to the kitchen table and Nancy had joined her; they felt comfortable sitting there quietly, because they had assumed they said all they needed to say between each other. And to be honest, Rowen liked Nancy.

 _Billy was wrong about her_ , she thought. He was wrong about a lot of people. Jonathan wasn't a creep, Will wasn't a freak; they just had their secrets to keep in the way he had his own, in the way she had her own. They had gone through things of which they swore never to talk about- swore to the government by signing papers -but she supposed that would seem creepy and freakish to someone who couldn't be let in on any of it.

Rowen would admit it aloud, she probably would have been in the same boat as Billy and Tommy and everyone else if she had gone on knowing nothing. She may not have thought Jonathan a creep or Nancy a snob, but she wouldn't have talked to them, wouldn't have given Will or Lucas or Mike a second thought unless Dustin somehow introduced them. And she would have continued to avoid Steve as if he was the plague, because at some point she would have considered apologizing to him for yelling, though decide against it because she knew what would happen if she tried to find him. And she knew he would continue to show up when she was mad or when Billy was there or when Tommy was watching from his car like the creep he was, and then Steve would get his ass kicked just as he had in the Byers' living room. Or maybe he wouldn't, maybe she would have never seen him again after yelling in his face; she didn't know, didn't feel like trying to figure it out.

On second thought, waiting for Hopper didn't feel like an eternity, because no sooner after she sat down was she standing back up or answering a question or settling an argument because neither Dustin nor Steve would quit; the latter had gotten hurt . . . _again_ , somewhere between keeping her from falling over and climbing out of the hole with an ease that made her want to throw something at him. Steve had a gash over his ankle and Dustin had tried to clean it, but all that came out if that was flinching and snapping until she told them to shut up and Mrs. Byers stepped in to fix the pitiful attempt.

She had headed for the fridge soon after.

"No, no- Mrs. Byers, don't open it! There's a demogorgon in there. I'm preserving it," Dustin had told her. Mrs. Byers didn't question it, but she began to move around as if she had things to do.

She wouldn't listen to Jonathan's pleads to sit, wouldn't listen to her or Nancy, and kept hurrying from one place to the other. But three eventually moved to stop her, said that they would take care of things because none of them really wanted to sit, and Mrs. Byers needed to; she looked as if she was about to pass out.

That was when Hopper and Eleven came back, when Steve and Dustin were talking over each other, Lucas was perusing the drinks on the counter, and everyone else was either trying to rest or have a conversation themselves. The pair was bloodier than Steve and Billy combined, and Rowen was the first to notice them.

She began to clear the table as Mrs. Byers stood again, stopped resting once more to usher them into the kitchen. Nancy went for the antiseptic wipes, handed them to her brother because who else was going to take care of El?

Rowen was surprised Hopper didn't ask about Billy.

iv:

It took him until Joyce mentioned it to notice that Rowen's brother was in the corner, until she had gone outside because she didn't feel like sitting in a kitchen littered with glass and broken plates and the reminder of just how both got there, even if El had asked her to. He thought of how El might like to see her more often before he decided to stand from a chair that was doing more harm than good.

His arm was wrapped in bandages and half his shirt was ripped open, and Joyce had ordered him to sit, but he got his coat and quietly told her that he should talk to Rowen anyway. Joyce let him go.

Rowen was smoking; she had taken his lighter and one of his cigarettes from the coat he now wore and somehow he hadn't noticed . . . He didn't mention it, rather closed the door and tugged his coat further around him.

"You wanna tell me why your brother is sleeping next to the Byer's couch?" he asked.

She didn't flinch upon hearing his voice, only muttered, "Passed out."

"What?"

"He's not sleeping, he's passed out."

The chief lifted his head as if to say "Ah", though no sound escaped his mouth, no words left him until she heard a shuffle, looked to see him stuff his hands in his pockets. She was surprised he still kept his coat on . . . she felt like she was burning up. "You wanna tell me why?" he asked.

". . . Not really." Boards of the Byers' porch creaked under his feet as Hopper shifted, eventually moved to sit down beside her. She sighed. "But if you're wondering why Steve is covered in bandaids, it's because they got in a fight."

"Do I wanna know why?"

Rowen huffed, "No."

Hand around his side, Hopper took a moment to sit back from the way he leaned against his knees, looked over his shoulder to the front door before saying, "Seems he got what was comin' to him."

"Oh, no, that wasn't Steve," Rowen told him. He raised a brow in question, and she continued, "The uh- . . . You know that stuff that Mrs. Byers stuck in Will to keep him unconscious?"

"Yeah? . . ."

"Well, Max, she, uh . . ." Rowen gestured with her free hand. "Stuck him with it."

"Stuck him?"

"Yeah."

He gave her a look. ". . . with a needle."

"Yup."

Silence sat between them long enough for Rowen to exhale a cloud of smoke. Then Hopper suddenly wheezed out a laugh, grinned, though only for a moment because laughing made something in his side tense and hurt; he clutched at it, this place, underneath his coat.

"You okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah . . . yeah, I'm good. Demogorgons are no joke."

Rowen smiled to herself, muttered around her cigarette, "No kidding."

Hopper searched through his pocket, pulled out a cigarette himself along with his lighter, soon puffing out a cloud of smoke himself. Eventually, he asked, "What was your brother doing here in the first place?"

"He, uh- . . ." she swallowed. "He said our dad sent him, to find Max. I think they thought she snuck out."

"Did she?"

"Kinda," she admitted, biting her lip in thought. "But, I mean . . . I could tell them she didn't, that she just forgot to close her window or something and was here with me the whole time . . ." She took in another deep breath, nodding to herself. ". . . babysitting."

Hopper nodded himself, slowly. "It could work," he mused.

"Yeah . . ." she mumbled. "That wouldn't explain why he's all beat up though."

"Does it matter?"

Her mouth fell open, closed. "He's already gotten in enough trouble since we got here. My dad sent him to find us; if he finds out he got in a fight instead- . . ." Rowen cut herself off, flung her hand up from where it rested on her knee. "Well, you get the picture."

The chief's mouth pressed into a thin line, one hand occupied by the hair tie around his wrist. "Well . . ." The blue piece smacked as he pulled on it, let it go in thought, out of habit. "I am the Chief of Police. I could come with you and smooth things over."

"No!" Rowen blurted before composing herself. "Uh, no, that'll just make it worse. My dad hates cops . . . No offense."

The corner of his mouth turned up, not quite a smile whether from not knowing what to do or just the simple fact that he was worn out- too tired to really do anything except listen. He'd assumed it was a joke.

"You know, Joyce wouldn't mind if you and Max stuck around. I mean, you say your dad hates cops, but I could still take your brother back while you two get some rest . . . _not_ as a cop," Hopper assured, ". . . just as someone who walked in on him getting in a fight."

"It'll just make it worse, Hopper . . ." Rowen told him again. "I wanna stay," she admitted. " _believe me_ , I'd love to save it for tomorrow . . . but it'd be better if I go home now before it can get any worse. We're in deep shit as it is."

For a while, the only noise that broke their silence was the muffled sounds of the boys talking amongst themselves, chattering or arguing, or both; she expected Dustin to be the cause of it. Hopper didn't utter a word until he stubbed out his cigarette under his boot, told her, "You'll be all right."

She didn't say anything for a while, flicking at her nails, biting the inside of her cheek until she eventually nodded. "Yeah . . . I'll think of something."

Out of habit, Hopper moved to squeeze her shoulder the way he had done with Jonathan, the way he did with Joyce and Mike and others whose faces he could barely remember, names he couldn't remember at all. His hand stopped in mid-air, held there, but she didn't see it. Hopper thought against his habit and stuffed his hand back in his pocket. "You uh . . . you don't have to come in tomorrow, all right? Or the day after that, if you don't feel like it. Stay at home, take some time to rest."

She met his gaze for a moment then, nodded again. "Thanks."

He smiled that time, tight-lipped and tired, stood to his feet. "You should come inside before Joyce tries to drag you in."

"I will . . . in a minute."

v:

Rowen didn't like the idea of leaving. She didn't like the idea of doing anything that would eventually lead her back to her dad, face to face, expecting an explanation whether she liked it or not. Max didn't either; she could see it in the way she messed with her hair and tapped her shoe against the floor of the house when it came time for them to leave, when Hopper helped Rowen drag her brother into the passenger seat of his car.

Goodbyes were awkward; half of them were preoccupied, no one really knew what to say. Mrs. Byers had wanted them to stick around because she could see how Rowen dragged herself along and how Max dragged herself along, said that she could make some space for them to stay over and get some sleep . . . And oh, did Rowen want to say yes; she wanted to say yes and sleep in a house that didn't make her skin crawl and make her want to get out as much as she possibly could. She wanted the idea of breakfast in the morning with other people even if she barely knew most of them, because even with that knowledge, she still felt more comfortable around them. She had half a mind to think it was that sense of comradery that made her feel that way, of having done something with these people that she could not share with anyone else that made her want to stick around.

Nevertheless, whether it did or not didn't matter. Billy was still there, knocked out, and she had to get him home- had to get Max home, because neither of them were eighteen and neither of them could leave the house for long periods of time without raising questions. She was eighteen and yet somehow she couldn't do so either.

Besides, Billy wasn't exactly welcome there.

Rowen changed her mind; life _was_ funny, in such a turnaround, despicable way that she couldn't help but laugh because it was so ridiculous- funny . . . _so_ , so _funny_.

vi:

She waited until Billy woke to drive the rest of the way home, to drive all the way back to Cherry Road from someplace at the side of the road. Max had helped her with an explanation by then, for their parents, carefully concocted because since the moment they became stepsisters, they had both learned how to lie. Whether they did it well depended on the person . . . and when it came down to Neil Hargrove, all they could do was cross their fingers and hope a miracle would happen.

Billy woke in a daze; he woke up in a state of dizziness quickly turned to confusion, then eventually to anger upon remembering what had happened. After everything, he was still fuming . . . but Rowen wasn't about to take any of it.

She didn't yell at him; she didn't have to. The drug made him mello even in his anger and that mello translated into being unable to yell or scream or do anything that wasn't the mother of all angry expressions. She told him again: she had been babysitting and Max had come along with her. And she didn't care if he didn't believe her, because she had Hopper and she had Mrs. Byers and they were both ready and willing to answer the phone and save her ass, because like Dustin had said: no one else could know.

vii:

They came home to the living room lit and the television on, his chair occupied; she expected it.

"So . . . who's gonna tell me why you're only just getting home at one in the morning?"

Rowen told him; she told him about the babysitting and about Max coming with her and about how she should have called before she left the station so Billy would have known where they were, and Susan would have been saved from a night of anxiety- because she had, indeed, been anxious. _Very_ anxious. She came into the living room within a minute, in a robe with her hair tied up because she had been trying to sleep, but couldn't really. Max was corralled into her room immediately with kisses and hugs and she barely had time to say sorry, even if she wasn't, before she was sent off to change and told to go to sleep.

It wasn't hard to believe that Mrs. Byers occasionally took the late-night shift at her job, her second job, because she was a single mother with two boys and needed the money. A single mother who had almost lost her son last year and was paranoid over leaving him alone when his brother was with a friend and had lost track of the time. Mrs. Byers came home at midnight, she told him, that the mother had let her sleep because she was too sweet to do otherwise.

And Billy? . . . Billy didn't show up until around twelve-thirty— twelve-thirty, because the Byers house was all the way on the other side of town, hard to find and hard to get to. By some miraculous miracle, it wasn't hard to believe.

It wasn't hard, because it played on the things that Billy had once done in San Diego. What was hard was making it seem as if Billy wasn't at fault for any of it.

Rowen was ready to take all the blame, all the rage, if her dad had any left; she had been since she climbed out of that hole. And she made it seem as if it was all her . . . but that hadn't even phased him. He kept going back to Billy, going back to how he should have paid more attention because Rowen had a job now and a job meant her responsibility would be elsewhere; not on Max, because that was Billy's responsibility now.

viii:

Neil was too tired to do anything but speak in a tone that was so familiar. They had been gone for hours and he didn't even try to care- as if she expected anything else . . . so disappointed, so reprimanding. And yet, in that moment, it almost felt worse than anything he would've done had he been awake enough.

ix:

Rowen almost wished she had let Hopper come with them, that he had explained everything for them even if her dad hated cops, sheriffs, the whole bunch . . . because even if he had been angry, Hopper would have been there after, and maybe then he would have squeezed her shoulder in the way he almost did on the Byers porch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, i have no excuse for taking this long to update . . . feel free to yell at me if i take this long to post the next chapter. i didn’t get to edit this as much as i would have liked because i wanted to hurry up and post it, but i will be sure to do that later. <3 
> 
> reviews are always appreciated!


	22. A Movie?

The subject of spore-infested tunnels, other dimensions, and children who could move things with their minds was never to be spoken of; this was the rule which birthed itself on the stained and over-cluttered piece of furniture that was Hopper's desk in sheets of blue paper. Overly detailed and printed in microscopic text, she read over that which he, the kids, and many others were all but forced to look over and signed on the dotted line in the same, reluctant manner; read for herself and for Max because how could a kid possibly understand all of that?

Max could, she knew that. Though she did not _want_ to understand; that was the thing. Rowen did not want to understand it either. She was aware of the fact that such things as the makings of a sci-fi movie being tangible and real could not be talked about unless you wanted to be marked as clinically insane. She understood that keeping El's true self hidden was of utmost priority. What she did not understand was why a sliver of the government had to stick their large, grotesque nose in her face and drag them into something that was binding when she had already promised Hopper that not a word would be uttered of what she and her stepsister were exposed to.

"They won't take your word for it," he said, sitting across from her at his small, bright red table. He had asked her to meet him at the station with Max the morning after they left, took them to his cabin where no one could peer their gazes over his shoulder or her shoulder to see government papers.

"They need it on paper in black and white; palpable evidence."

Rowen could not be less surprised even if she wanted to be; and as much as she wanted to say no, she knew that whoever these people were had the nerve and the means to make her life seem as if it never was, which was why she scribbled her name and made Max get off Hopper's couch to scribble hers too. She found no relief in doing it, even if their simple grasp of the pen was supposedly meant "to ensure your safety"; it was in truth, but Rowen found the idea of being exposed to monsters and tunnels whose walls slithered about more terrifying than men in suits with guns that peaked from their coats.

El had come out of her room by then- short curls sticking in all directions -and without being asked, ensured in her own way that the "gate" was closed and that the Mind Flayer would never be able to reach them again; yet still, Rowen worried.

She worried for Max's sake, the kids' sakes, and her own sake; and when all was said and done that night, and Billy had for once done what she asked, though she did not realize it, she had only succumbed to something she would dare to consider worse because there is always a way to make that which stands before you go away, but it is difficult to make nightmares do the same when the latter lives in your head.

ii:

Rowen had not been able to remember a dream she had since she was twelve; she knew one such thing for certain and clung to the comforting fact that she would not retain dreams of rows of teeth and limbs which stretched out for her after it all had been shut away in a gray and dismal copy of their world. But she had been wrong to. The sleep that came the night she left the Byers house never came, because she never shut her eyes; but the night that came after was the first of many in which she would be plagued with the images of blue tunnels and four-legged monsters and the unexpected sight of Mews's mangled body along with Max's, Dustin's, her own . . . everyone's. Even Steve's after he would keep her from falling again, then fall over himself.

It was easier to think that she had caught some kind of fever which messed with her head than to believe that her dreams had come back in the way she had once hoped her mom would; but she had no signs of being sick, only the fact that she would wake in a cold sweat after being jolted by a hand or a shout which was there but was not.

She never woke up screaming, that she could be thankful for for many reasons; but to have the memories of what she experienced cling to her the way the Mind Flayer had clung to Will was taxing, and it cost her multiple nights of sleep. Max was no different, and Rowen had a feeling that sharing a bed as they had once done in California would become more routinely than her arguments with Billy. Though in hindsight, ever since he had been stuck twice with a needle and shouted at by both his siblings, said arguments had ceased to exist, never-mind be frequent. Billy hadn't managed to touch a nerve or respond to a nerve being touched ever since that night, and it left Rowen to wonder amidst her sleepiness what exactly made him decide to hold his tongue. In fact, he all but avoided Max. He avoided Rowen too, and she couldn't shake the weird mix of relief and concern she was feeling; though she found she could not find the energy to focus on it.

She was struggling to focus on much of anything and wasn't the best at hiding the ailment which was her sleepiness, from Hopper, at least, if not anyone else. Three days had passed since that night and he made her go home for all of them, shamelessly ordering that she stayed home and slept until she was able to manage a phone call without drifting off, however long it took.

Rowen didn't take it well. She wanted something to do, to distract her from her mind's newfound eagerness to dream dreams of tunnels and stretching limbs and utterly terrifying screeches whether she was asleep or not.

It wasn't as if anyone could tell, though. She was good at hiding everything but the sleepiness and the bags under her eyes; and the only time anything would slip was when she was jolted awake from a nightmare, where Max sat as the only witness. And she knew her stepsister would never say anything because she was just as eager to hide her whimpers and her struggles; and they would never admit them to anyone for anything, not even if a Demogorgon was truly there rather than in their heads, eating them alive.

iii:

With seventy-two hours passing came about a dozen phone calls and then some from Mrs. Byers, Dustin, Hopper, Dustin, a "Hi" from El that she insisted Hopper pass on . . . _Dustin_. Rowen had not come over to tutor him since she found Dart in his room and for whatever reason, he felt immensely guilty for it; though strangely, Dustin hadn't been the only one who called her from his house: Mrs. Henderson called too.

Rowen came to know very quickly that she was the epitome of a caring mother well before the voice messages which entailed "I hope you're doing well, dear. Dustin misses you lots." or "If you ever feel like coming over for dinner, our door is always open!"

She didn't know what she did to deserve the mother's sweet offerings, and she hadn't the heart to accept them— it wasn't because of one lousy memory and one queasy feeling she had attached to their house, but because somehow she knew she would feel guilty for doing so. She didn't feel as if she had really _done_ anything to deserve the invitation. But Mrs. Henderson kept calling, a handful of times until it stopped along with the other calls because three days at her house in a row was nearing the line between tiring and completely unbearable.

"All better today?" Flo asked her as she walked in on a gloomy Wednesday morning. Hopper had passed off her absence as having trouble sleeping, and he couldn't have a sleepy receptionist lighting Flo's workload when Flo herself was as sharp as a tack, even if she was working too much.

"Not in the slightest," Rowen deadpanned. "But if I stay at my house for one more day, I'm gonna start twitching."

Flo had half a mind to make her go home too, but she never did.

iv:

Among his sudden silence, frowns, and attempts to avoid her, Rowen came to notice on the fourth day since that night, when rather than coming home, Max was invited to Mike's house to play DD, that Billy made no move nor complaint against her grasp of his keys. Nor did he do so the second time she grabbed them, or the third time.

She was neither curious nor interested to know why her brother's "Plan B"- which consisted of Tommy H., his car, and what she thought but was not sure was talk of an ongoing party on the edge of town -had deflated like a popped balloon and was discarded in the same manner. Billy had never liked Tommy to begin with, therefore she assumed her brother had come to his senses and decided to drop him altogether; though she knew one certain parent would not be pleased with Billy's alternative to spending a free night, which consisted of music so loud it rattled the house and disturbed the few neighbors they had.

But with each passing day, Rowen began to care for her brother's ordeals less and less and found herself becoming quickly familiar with the route to the Wheeler household.

Max was strangely interested in the boys' routinely game, and hadn't refused the invitation to join when it was given; so, as a result, when Rowen would come to pick Max up, she never refused Mrs. Wheeler's invitation of some sort of cookie which was always sitting there on the counter or just coming out of the oven.

Nor did she refuse conversation with Nancy, which was always short and over within a matter of minutes; but it was almost like a routine, and Rowen kind of enjoyed it, which was why she gave Nancy a small smile as she walked into the kitchen once again.

"Are you here to pick Max up?" asked Nancy.

Rowen nodded, giving a muffled "mhm" as she swallowed. "Are they almost done?" she asked after a moment. "I thought Max would be up here by now."

Muffled cries came from the basement, and both girls turned their gazes towards the basement door, expecting footsteps to follow . . . though nothing came.

Nancy smiled fondly. "Yeah — well . . . knowing that they once played for ten hours, it's almost possible that they're gonna do it again."

" _Ten hours_?" Rowen gaped.

"Yup."

"How do they survive that?"

"Snacks," Nancy deadpanned. "Lots of them — and having a bathroom down there with them."

"So they could basically live down there and no one would be able to tell the difference?"

Nancy shook her head, smirking. "Mike tried to once. He almost got away with it but, when my mom went down there to check on him, she took one sniff and sent him back upstairs. She had to force him to take a shower."

Rowen grimaced. "I hope Max doesn't get any ideas . . . We have to be home by a certain time anyway."

"If she doesn't come up in a little bit, you can always go down and get her — but, fair warning, it reeks of middle school boys."

"I don't know how she can stand it if it smells like that," said Rowen.

Nancy let out the faintest hint of a laugh. "I don't know," she said. "But they might have cleaned it up a little for her, who knows. I haven't been down there since last year."

"Ah," said Rowen.

"When do you have to be home by?"

"Six normally . . . but as of yesterday, it's been later than that. I have to have her home by eight."

Nancy nodded, and the low blare of the television filled their ears. Rowen began to bob her foot, blanking on what else to say. Falling into an awkward silence with people was becoming almost a habit for her.

"Can I ask you something?" Nancy suddenly spoke.

Rowen looked up, caught off guard. "Oh — yeah, sure."

"Have you heard anything from Steve at all?"

Rowen paused to think, though she didn't really need to to have her answer. "Uh . . . no, I haven't. Why?"

"Well, I know you tutor Dustin, and I know Dustin talks to Steve — . . ."

"Don't _you_ talk to Steve?" Rowen asked.

Nancy hesitated. "Well — yeah — but . . . I haven't talked to him _lately_ , you know? Like, since . . ." Nancy paused, looking over her shoulder to where her parents sat, watching television, on opposite sides of the living room. Lowering her voice, she said, "Since El closed the gate."

"You haven't talked to him at all since then?"

Nancy shook her head. "I'm kind of worried, you know? I mean, he's in this giant house all by himself, and I haven't even seen him at school."

Rowen's brow knitted. "A giant house?" she asked. Nancy nodded. Rowen pushed up from where she had been leaning against the counter. "He lives by himself — in a giant house?"

"Well, most of the time. His parents go on a lot of business trips."

". . . And they just leave him there?"

"Yeah? . . ."

Before she could stop herself, Rowen muttered a "Lucky . . ."

Nancy threw her a look, and Rowen quickly shook her head. "Sorry — you were saying?"

"I was saying I'm just — _worried_ ," Nancy admitted. "It's not like him . . . I was hoping that maybe you had talked to him or something."

"Why were you hoping I would've?"

"Oh — well — I don't know, you . . . I thought since you guys showed up together with the kids that night that — you know . . ." Nancy trailed off.

"Nancy, I've probably talked to him less than you have since all of this happened," Rowen told her.

Nancy lifted her head in understanding, now looking down at the kitchen counter as if it was suddenly interesting.

Thankfully, before the silence that filled the kitchen could get any worse, footsteps pounded up towards them, and the kids were soon flying out of the basement, Max at the head. She was plugging her nose.

"God, Dustin, you couldn't hold it in until later?"

"That wasn't me! That was Lucas!"

"What?! No way! That was all you!"

"I'll have you know that I am perfectly capable of holding it in when there are girls around. _I_ am a gentleman. _You_ , however — . . ."

"Ugh," Max groaned, retreating to her stepsister's side. "Rowen, can we go now? Outside, where it doesn't smell like a fart bomb went off."

" _Oh_ , _geez_ ," Nancy gasped, covering her nose with her hands. "What've you guys been eating? That's _disgusting_." She immediately made a beeline for the basement door, shutting it hard.

Rowen had been lucky, avoiding the smell by sticking a cookie right under her nose. Max reached over to grab one, doing the same in an attempt to relieve her own nose.

"Okay . . ." Rowen breathed. "Max, I think it's time we should go — before the smell reaches upstairs."

She didn't have to tell Max twice, as the redhead was already racing for the closet near the front door, where her backpack laid abandoned.

"Wait — Rowen!" Nancy had scurried along behind them, catching Rowen's attention before she could reach the door.

Rowen ushered Max to go out to the car as she grabbed her backpack, taking the keys from her hand. Nancy had her arms wrapped around her perfectly fitted pink and white sweater, teetering awkwardly on the threshold between the kitchen and the front room.

"Did you — I don't know . . . maybe want to go to a movie sometime?"

"A movie?" Rowen echoed.

"Yeah, you know, the cinema — popcorn — somewhere that doesn't smell like my brother and his friends' farts," Nancy said lightly.

"Oh, uh — well . . ."

"You can say no if you want," Nancy told her quickly, awkwardly. "I mean, I just thought I'd offer, you know? If you wanted to — . . ."

"No! No, it's not that. I just didn't . . ."

A few moments passed before Nancy uttered, "Didn't expect Princess Wheeler to ask you to hang out?"

Rowen winced at her brother's nickname. She had forgotten all about him, for a moment, along with how he had mocked Nancy at the Halloween party. She had no idea she had heard.

"Tommy and your brother call me that at school," Nancy confided. "I wouldn't be surprised if you knew it."

A pang of guilt made itself known in Rowen's chest. It wasn't shocking to hear that Billy continued on with his torment, but somehow hearing it come from Nancy's mouth only made it more unsettling.

"Listen, Nancy," she said after a while. "Billy makes fun of a lot of people, but that doesn't mean I do — or at least I don't anymore . . . and I don't know Tommy that well, but I know I can probably trust him as far as I can throw him."

Nancy began to smile.

"I haven't known you for that long either, but I have a feeling you're not a "Princess" as they say."

"I live at the end of a culdesac in a pristinely white house with what you'd call a "perfect nuclear family"," Nancy objected. "They're not exactly far off."

Rowen shrugged. "And? You have a nice house and a family that's still together, so what? That doesn't make you a princess. Everyone at the high school thinks I'm in college when I'm really not."

"You're not?"

"Mm-mm . . ." Rowen shook her head, then added, "And I _would_ like to go to a movie with you."

Nancy almost looked taken aback. "Oh — well . . . cool — that's cool."

"When did you wanna go?"

"Well — uh . . . whenever you want, I guess," Nancy said. "I have school, so maybe on a weekend? Or next Friday?"

"Next Friday works. We can meet there if you want?"

"Sure, yeah."

"Okay — " said Rowen, pulling on a jacket that was about two sizes too big for her. "So . . . I'll see you there then."

"See you," Nancy nodded as Rowen pulled open the door.

Before the latter took a step outside, however, she paused, pointing at Nancy, "Just don't make me watch a cheesy romance movie or anything, okay?"

Nancy laughed this time, holding her hands up in surrender. "Okay, yeah — deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is so short! it's more of a filler and a set up for the chapters to come. (: as always, thank you for all the comments and kudos!


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